To Settle a Debt
by Takhissis
Summary: "A favor.  Simple enough, yes?  Generous, even," Truth said, "I will take nothing more from you, save... time.  There are other worlds that need saving." FMAxHP. Brotherhood/Manga.  OoTP. Rated for language and violence.
1. Chapter 1

**To Settle a Debt**

**Chapter 1**

* * *

><p>Total blank whiteness expanded outward around him, marred only by the Gate and the small figure that materialized, sitting before him.<p>

"Have you come for your brother, Mr. Al-che-mist?" a thousand voices asked, he could hear his own among them, "But how are you going to pull a whole person out? What is the payment? Will you offer up your _own_ body?"

Edward's stone face betrayed nothing as he walked past the figure, looking up at the Gate. A smile spread across his face.

"This is my payment. This huge thing."

"The Gate of Truth exists within everyone. That is how everyone can use alchemy. Will you degrade yourself to an ordinary person, unable to do alchemy?" The thousand voices rang in the emptiness, echoing with its mocking tone.

"There is nothing degrading about it. I have always been an ordinary person," he closed his eyes for a moment, "A small person unable to save even a single girl who'd been turned into a chimera."

He opened his eyes again, looking back at the Gate.

"Since seeing the Truth, or whatever I have relied on Alchemy so much, and made many mistakes," Edward said, "I have been its puppet."

"Will you be alright, without this?" The Truth asked.

He didn't know, really. As foolish as the damned thing had made him, Alchemy was his passion. The thought of being cut from it... but he would have his brother, and that was all that mattered. It was his fault for everything that had happened, and he must pay his dues. He had people he could count on (bastard fathers and Colonels included); he didn't need anything more. Edward turned his head, grinning at Truth.

"Even without Alchemy, I still have my friends."

The being grinned.

"That is the correct answer, Mr. Al-che-mist," Truth laughed, "You have beaten Truth. Take it all."

Edward turned back to the Gate.

"Wait," Weakness permeated the short, simple word, and also determination, "Brother."

"Oh? Little brother seems to have found his way to your soul through your connection," Truth grinned, "There was no need, your brother was just coming to get you."

"Al!" Edward looked back and saw the weak figure of his brother, trying to prop himself up on his own Gate, "Al, just wait one second, don't-"

"You're so _stupid._" Al looked up, glaring at his brother.

Utter shock is the only thing to describe what coursed through Ed in that moment.

"Wh-what?" Ed spoke, dumbfounded.

"Oh, has little brother something to add?"

"I _said_, you're so _stupid._" Alphonse repeated, "All these years you have carried this _guilt_ over what happened to my body. It's time for you to realize that it _wasn't just you!_ We were _both_ stupid, brother. I need to be responsible for my own actions, too!"

Al, weakly clapped his hands together.

"Al! What are you doing?"

"It was my mistake, too! My Gate should be enough!"

Truth grinned.

"Two winners in one millennium, let alone one minute!" Truth said, as Al put his hands on his own Gate, "Very good! Very good!"

Alchemical energy crackled around Alphonse's Gate as it peeled away from existence, revealing the continuing blank expanse behind it.

"Al!" Ed called as he rushed over to Al, who collapsed from exhaustion.

"However."

Ed and Al looked up in alarm as Truth spoke again.

"Though, _correct_ your answer may be," Truth grinned, "It is not equal."

Al gasped, and Ed's grip tightened.

"But-"

"Your Alchemy means less to you than it does to your brother, it is not equal," Truth spoke, the thousand voices mocking, "You gave your body for access to the Truth, every day you went without your body... its value went up. Your Gate for your body. This would be equal."

The grin disappeared from Truth's empty face.

"But now I have your soul."

"Then the same trade stands!" Ed growled, "The same as before!"

"'Give him back,'" Truth said, the voice Edward spoke with as a child dominating the thousand others, "'Take my arm, take my leg, take my heart, take whatever you want; just give him back. He's my little brother, he's all I have left.' Is that the trade you speak of?"

"Yes! Just let us go!"

The Truth stood silent.

"I'm sorry, brother, I messed it all up..." Al said weakly from his side.

"Shut up, Al," Edward said, "It's not your fault... and... thank you."

Edward bent his head, his bangs covering his eyes.

"Thank you for enduring, for waiting."

"Very well."

Ed and Al looked up sharply at the figure before them.

"I will take back your arm."

Al slipped from his grasp, sitting up on his own as Edward held up the arm he had so recently regained with relief flooding his face. He watched as it disappeared before his eyes, peeling away from him and fading into the whiteness, leaving the auto-mail port that it had rebuilt itself over.

"Go, then," Truth said, grinning, gesturing toward Edward's Gate as it opened behind him.

Ed lifted Al with his good arm, helping him walk back to his Gate, light pouring from within. They stood just before it, a single step all that was needed to be home.

"Go, but know that it is not enough. Know that the next time you call upon the knowledge of Truth, I will be there, and I _shall_ collect."

Ed turned.

"What do you mean by, that?" He demanded.

"You said 'anything', did you not?" Truth said, "It shall not be so simple as an arm this time."

"Damn it, be a little more clear! What do you want?"

"A favor. Simple enough, yes? Generous, even," Truth said, "I will take nothing more from you, save... time. There are other worlds that need saving."

Alchemical energy crackled around the auto-mail port and the auto-mail arm reassembled there.

"A parting gift, I will see you again soon, Mr. Al-che-mist."

"Wait!"

But Truth was gone.

"Come on, Brother, let's go." Al tugged in his arm, "Whatever the Truth has left for us, we'll face it; together."

They stepped into the light and when Al next opened his eyes, it was to a bright, warm world, and the faces of his friends and family.

* * *

><p><em>Five Months Later<em>

Ishval was _really damn hot_. Edward groaned and pulled the tan cloak's hood further over his face. Then again, it was the end of _summer_ wasn't it? Go to the desert during the summer; _great_ idea. But he had put this off long enough, and given a little more time, Al would be fit as he should be and Ed couldn't wait until then.

Al was going to be so pissed.

Edward continued through the streets, glancing around at some of the newly repaired buildings, he looked up and saw his goal; a humble building that housed the military command in charge of the Ishvalan restoration.

"...Major General Roy Mustang continues the restoration effort at breakneck speed, backed fully by the Fuhrer Grumman as well as the Lieutenant General Olivier Armstrong of Briggs, who even gave one of her own, a Major Miles, to aid the effort..."

The radio sounded in the streets, perched on the counter of a small shop providing food and water for several Ishvalans, Amestrian Soldiers, and Amestrian civilian volunteers. There was a barely noticeable film of tension, that had been chipped down by months of working together rebuilding Ishval.

Edward had heard of some radical groups opposed to the restoration, however those were thoroughly crushed by the skilled team commanded by the Major General in charge of the effort.

Edward came up to the building, looking it over. Two guards stood on either side of the entrance. Very familiar guards.

"Lieutenant Ross! Sargent Brosh!" The two look up to see Edward waving with a grin.

"Edward!" Maria smiled, "How are you? How's your brother?"

"Yeah, we haven't heard from you since we left Central." Denny added

"I'm good, Al's doing great, but what about you?" Ed asked.

"There's a lot of paperwork involved in bringing the dead back to life," Maria laughed, "Apparently I'm lucky Captain Hawkeye was there to make the Major General do it."

"Still a lazy bastard, even now?" Ed said with a huff, "Figures."

"Edward that's no way-" Maria started.

"Wait." Ed held up a hand, realizing something, "If you're here, then-"

"EDWARD ELRIC!"

Ed paled as the doors were flung open.

Sparkle.

Rip.

Ow.

"Oh, it is so good to see you! The epitome of brotherly love and loyalty-"

"Major... you're... strangling... me." Ed gasped out.

"Lieutenant-Colonel. I'm sure that's enough."

Armstrong turned to the side and released Edward before standing at attention and saluting, Maria and Denny saluted as well from their posts at the door. Edward looked to see Mustang standing in the doorway, Hawkeye half a step behind him.

"At ease." Armstrong, Maria and Denny lowered their arms, the former standing stock still looking outward from their posts, "Lieutenant-Colonel Armstrong, weren't you about to head over to the twelfth district?" He said, looking up at the giant of a man.

"Of course, sir!" Armstrong replied, "I couldn't leave without welcoming the Fullmetal Alchemist to Ishval first! I shall be on my way then!"

With that Armstrong made a dramatic scene of leaving the area, sparkles following him away. Mustang fixed his attention on Edward.

"Well, Fullmetal, it looks like you might have actually grown a centimeter or two."

Ed twitched, and clenched his fist, speaking through gritted teeth.

"Good to see you too, you damn smug bastard," Ed said, "Came down to meet me at the door? What an honor."

"When the Major saw you from the window and came charging down I figured _someone _had to save you." He said with a _goddamn stupid smirk why am I even here,_ "You _can_ come in you know; you _have_ technically been here for two and a half months now, so you have the authorization to be in this building."

"Yeah..." Edward turned sheepish, "Thanks.. for that, by the way..."

"It wasn't a problem, how's Al?" Mustang said with a smile gesturing for Ed to follow him in.

Ed fell into step at his side, shoving his hands into his pockets and slouching a little, shrugging.

"Good, he's gotten started on eating all those things he put on that list. He still needs the crutches, if he wears himself out too much. Drives me nuts every time I see him walking without them, Winry too. But then he just goes on about my auto-mail recovery, saying if I could do it so could he." Ed went on about Al's recovery and how he got sick from devouring an entire apple pie.

"So then why are you here and not there?" The ever observant Hawkeye said as they came upon a door that she reached to open. She stood at the opened door, looking at Ed and gesturing for them to go inside, her eyes seeming to pierce his very soul.

Okay, that was an exaggeration, but goddamn! That woman could make him feel so guilty.

But she also didn't expect a response; he could tell as she looked at him and he just smiled guiltily and followed Mustang through the door.

Three sets of eyes fixed on them.

"Boss!" Havoc said with a grin, "Good to see ya!"

"Yeah, boss, but what are you doing out here? I thought you were taking care of your brother." Breda said.

"Winry can handle him for a little while, I haven't seen you guys in ages!" Ed put in a grin, turning the conversation from his brother. He was a damn shitty liar, and he knew it, the less he talked about his brother the better.

"Well that's so nice that you came out to see us," Kain said (the only one in the group that he didn't feel awkward about thinking of by their first name).

"Yeah, I," Ed swallowed, "I missed you guys."

He said it in a light tone, giving it the sound of less meaning than it truly held.

They talked for a while, about the progress of Havoc's physical therapy (his crutches leaned against his desk), and the latest news from Falman up north. They also spent a great deal of time poking fun at the fact that Ed was _wearing his uniform_.

"Hey Mustang, you got a minute to talk?"

The Major General looked up from his work that he had brought out from his own office (though not much of anyone's work got done while the elder Elric was in the room).

"Of course, Fullmetal," He said, standing, "I assume you mean privately?"

"Yeah," He said, looking nervous, "It was great talking! I'm glad we got to catch up."

He grinned at Havoc, Breda, and Kain.

"Of course, boss," Havoc said, "I have to head out soon, so when your brother calls to ask why you haven't called him since you got in, give him my best, alright?"

"Yeah, definitely," Ed said with a crooked smile.

Hawkeye opened the door to Mustang's office, holding it for them as Mustang walked through.

A meaningful look passed between Mustang and Hawkeye and their arms brushed lightly so Edward realized that it wasn't a look between Mustang and Hawkeye but a look between Riza and Roy.

Before she closed the door behind them he turned and said something, he had to say _something_ because this woman had protected and cared for them and after that door closed he might not see her again for a long time.

"Thank you," He blurted out, then took a breath, looking at her with all the emotion and gratitude he could muster, "Thank you."

She smiled, "There's no need for that, Ed. We're family, it's what we do. We'll always be here for you, whenever you come home."

Because somehow she knew that this was goodbye, at least for now.

The door closed and he turned around to see Mustang leaning against his desk. A minute of silence passed in which Mustang looked at him calculatingly. A frown marred his features. He lowered his gaze, and slapped the paperwork onto his desk, making Ed twitch in surprise.

"Damn it, Edward! Why do I feel like you came here to say goodbye?" He nearly growled, then sighed, slumping a little against his desk.

When he looked up, determination was clear on Ed's face.

"When I went to get Al back from the gate, I intended to give up my alchemy, as payment," Edward started, "Al wouldn't let me."

"He... wouldn't _let_ you?"

Ed proceeded to tell him of what occurred with Truth. The Major General gripped his desk tightly in the ensuing silence.

"So now..." Mustang said, "You intend to go alone."

"Al has lost enough to my stupid mistakes, I won't let him give up any more," Ed clenched his fists, "He decided to take responsibility, even though it was all my fault in the first place. He gave up his alchemy, so I wouldn't have to give up mine. I know he thinks... that it was both our mistakes, but I'm his older brother, I should never have led him down that path. I never should have told him we could bring her back. I never should have believed it myself."

"Ed..."

"No. This is something that I need to do," Edward looked at him with fire in his eyes, "I have to go this one alone. I won't let Al sacrifice any more."

Mustang pinched the bridge of his nose, glaring at Ed.

"I want to say 'you're not leaving without me to watch your back'," He shut his eyes, sighing, "But-"

"But you can't, because you have a job to do, and you have people who are counting on you, relying on you," Ed finished for him, "That's why I came here."

"Because my hands are tied," Roy looked up at him sadly, pushing away from the desk and walking toward Ed, he laughed dryly, "I didn't know you could be so cruel."

"Sorry," Ed grinned sheepishly, "After all that you've done for Al and I, this is the least you deserve."

"So what do I tell Al?" Mustang asked.

"The truth, and tell him I love him." Ed said, "He can't chase after me, and he's thousands of miles away so he can't stop me either."

"You've got all your bases covered, don't you," Roy said, glaring at Ed.

"I learned that from you," Ed retorted mockingly.

"But you're missing something," Mustang said, "What if _I_ stop you?"

"But you won't," Edward said, at him with a pained expression, "Because you know that I have to do this. You know more than anyone else what I'm feeling right now."

"Yeah... I know," Mustang said, sighing, "For what it's worth, I'm proud of you, Edward."

"It's worth lot," Edward said quietly, earnestly, "That's also why I'm here. It's not just so someone will know where I've gone and who to tell what. I wanted to thank you, while I had the chance. Okay, you're and asshole and a bastard-"

"And you're a shrimp, what else is new?"

"-but everything you've done for my brother and I... I don't even know how to begin to repay you. I wanted you to know how grateful we are, because I've been too proud, or angry to say it before, and I don't want to miss what might be my last chance."

"DAMN IT, ED!"

Ed's eyes widened in shock as Mustang gripped the front of his shirt, lifting him from the ground with surprising ease, and Ed was brought back to the day they met.

"Stop talking like this is the last time you'll ever see me!" Anger was something that Roy didn't often express, but it was clear as day on his features as he glare at Ed, "You better come back to us! I won't accept anything else! You got it, Fullmetal?"

Ed grinned.

"Yeah, I got it, ya bastard."

"Good," He said as he dropped the Fullmetal Alchemist on his ass. He stared down at Edward for a long second before smirking.

"Weren't you going somewhere?" He asked casually as he turned and walked to his desk, sitting gracefully behind it.

Ed pulled himself to his feet.

"See you soon, Mustang!"

Edward clapped his hands together, still grinning from ear to ear. Alchemical energy sparked around him before pulling Ed apart before his eyes. In seconds the space before him was empty where the Fullmetal Alchemist once stood.

The phone rang. Roy picked it up.

"Sir, Alphonse Elric is on the line."

"Put him through."

Roy waited a moment and then a short beep signaled his being connected.

"Alphonse! How are you?"

"He's gone, isn't he?"

Roy smiled sadly.

"You just missed him," He said.

Silence on the other end.

"Thank you, Major General," Al said, resigned, after a moment.

"He said to tell you he loves you, and that he'll be back," Roy said.

"He didn't say the 'I'll be back' part, did he?"

"No," Roy admitted, "But he will be. I've made sure of it."

"Since when does he listen to _you_?"

Any other day this would have been a joke, and they would have laughed. Today, with the tired, defeated tone of Al's voice, there was only pain.

* * *

><p>"Welcome back, Mr. Al-che-mist," Truth's thousand voices echoed, "But where is your brother?"<p>

"Not here," Ed said sharply, "I can handle whatever 'favor' you need alone."

"So sure, Mr. Al-che-mist," Truth grinned, "We will see. Have you enjoyed your gift?"

Ed grimaced, lifting his auto-mail arm, "Winry looked at it, said it was exactly the same as the one she made for me at Briggs. Not a bolt out of place."

"So glad you approve."

"Well? What is it?" Ed asked, "You said something about other worlds needing saving."

"Yes, so I did, and so they do," Truth said, "But I will ask you to aid only one."

"Easy enough, I already saved one world, didn't I?" Edward gave a cocky grin and Truth tilted its head to the side with a Cheshire grin.

"So confident," Truth said, "Arrogance was once your downfall, do not let it be again. This world that I shall send you to save is.. very different from the one you know, and yet quite similar. The one greatest difference... is that the people do not believe in me. Not anymore."

"What are you talking about?" Ed demanded, "Does this mean there's no alchemy there? No equivalent exchange?"

"You are correct, Mr. Al-che-mist," Truth answered, "In that world something... some _power_ manifested itself separate to me. Some of the people were born with this strange thing," Truth scowled, "They call it _magic_ and they use it to their little hearts' content, warping the world and using the power with no consequence, no _equivalence. _Yet there was nothing I could do but watch. I have nothing over this power, it is alchemy that I govern. It's ridiculous to think, isn't it? I, who have shaped your life, your world, so powerless over another," Truth sneered, "Yet they are fools all the same, and have led themselves to ruin over and over with dreams of power and immortality. One nearly succeeded, living nearly seven hundred years through the creation of a philosopher's stone-"

"But that's-"

"Not made of alchemy, yet of something similar, though based in their magic," The Truth waved it off, "Yet he, too, met his end; recently, at that. The people posses some modicum of intelligence and they destroyed the stone, leaving such power from the hands of men, no matter how above men these _wizards_ believed themselves to be. So I was content to let them be. People will make war and kill each other enough to keep them from getting anywhere near God, and none had the drive, the intelligence, or the time that _Father_ did."

"But now someone has," Edward concluded.

"Not yet," Truth hissed, "Not yet, he hasn't, and he will not! But I have complained enough. I can not control the people. That is impossible, I know this. Yet, I still have a responsibility to the fools, and I will not abandon them while this madman destroys them for the sake of achieving God. I can do nothing, this is why there is you."

"Okay, so go to this world, kick this guy on his ass then go home," Edward said, "Sounds easy enough."

"It may not be so simple as it seems," Truth said, "My connection to the world still exists, unused though it may be, so I may send you to this other world. Tread carefully, their powers are strange, and not to be underestimated in competent hands."

"So who is it?" Ed asked, "Who am I after?"

"Tom Riddle is the man's name, though he may scarce be called a man still," Truth grinned, "Good luck, Mr. Al-che-mist."

Edward kept an expression of steadfast determination as he felt his body being torn away from the plane and thrust into darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

_*Amestrian*_

English

_Emphasis_

* * *

><p><strong>To Settle a Debt<strong>

**Chapter 2**

* * *

><p>Sirius Black was terribly <em>bored. <em>When he wasn't being screamed at by the portrait of his mother – which won't _bloody shut up – _or avoiding being cursed by _touching_ something in the house, he spent the majority of his time sitting on the couch. Doing nothing. Occasionally reading a book. If it wasn't cursed or about the Dark Arts. He _did_ have to remember to thank Hermione, however, for letting him borrow a few of her muggle books. Remus was around, but not always, unfortunately. He would be on a mission for the Order most of the time, along with many others in the house, leaving him mostly alone, save Molly and the children.

He didn't have a _problem_ with any of them, but they were fairly _boring_. Well, the twins weren't, but ever since Molly blew up at them last week they haven't _done_ anything.

Sirius sighed and looked over at the table next to the couch. He'd recently put down that muggle book, Catcher in the Rye. He was being as whiny as Holden. He should just be happy he's alive and out of Azkaban.

But he just felt so damn _useless_. He huffed and stuck his tongue out at the book. That'll teach him to read.

A short crackling noise and a flash of light caught his attention, and he looked up at the ceiling curiously. His eyes widened as a streak of electricity shot out from he ceiling, striking the floor. Sirius scrambled backward into the couch, drawing his wand and stumbling over the back, hiding behind it, poking his head out over the top. What had this damn house come up with to kill them all _now?_

The light and crackling noise came again and Sirius looked up, the streaks of electricity concentrated in an area on the ceiling and blue lines shot out where they struck, forming a... circle? More lines of blue light moved from the edge to the center of the circle forming an intricate design within. Sirius gaped as the electricity continued to flow within the circle and a figure dropped through the center of it and onto the floor. The light faded and the circle disappeared, only short gasps of breath pervading the ensuing silence.

That... was new.

Sirius looked down at what had dropped to the floor and gasped.

Lying face-down on the floor was a person, draped in a tan, hooded cloak, with a distinctly blue colored garment peeking out from the sleeve he could see, with a white glove covering the hand. Long blond hair tied back in a pony tail curled around on the floor next to his head, which was tilted away from Sirius' view.

Cautiously Sirius stepped out from behind the couch, tentatively moving towards the person clearly knocked out cold on his floor. He knelt beside the person and reached out to shake his or her shoulder, to no response. Gently, Sirius rolled him over. The tan cloak was open in the front revealing strange blue clothing that, with the medal attached to the pocket and rather formal look, resembled a muggle military uniform. But this observation went out the window when he looked at the face.

He was a kid.

"_MOLLY!_"

Sirius heard several rushed footsteps coming down the hall and soon enough the door to the sitting room burst open. Molly came into the room, followed by the twins, Ron and Hermione, poking their heads into the room.

"Sirius, what on earth – Dear Merlin!"

Molly rushed over to Sirius' side and the children shuffled into the room, curiosity taking over. Hermione emitted a small gasp, covering her mouth with her hands.

"Bloody hell..." Ron mumbled.

"Fred, George, floo Albus," Molly said as she brushed the boy's hair out of his face. The twins left, and Sirius stood beginning to shoo Ron and Hermione from the room.

"To your rooms, go!"

"But-"

"Go!"

Ron rushed out, but Hermione remained a moment, biting her lip, before nodding in resignation and leaving the room behind Ron.

"He seems to be fine, just unconscious," Molly frowned, muttering a spell, lifting the boy into the air, "Where did he come from, Sirius?"

"Would you believe the ceiling?"

"In this house? I would," Molly said, levitating the boy out into the hall, "I'll put him in one of the empty bedrooms. When Albus gets here we'll figure out what to-"

"And what if he's... a Death Eater?"

Molly almost dropped the boy as she spun on Sirius.

"He's a _child!_" Molly hissed, "Not to mention I'd imagine if they found out _where_ the Order was, they would send more than one unconscious boy!"

The woman made a valid point. However, Sirius mused, Alastor was likely to disagree. He opened the door to one of the many empty rooms and Molly hurried through, lowering the boy onto the bed. She waved her wand and his shoes – black combat boots – slipped off his feet and...

Molly dropped them haphazardly on the floor, gasping.

The left foot was metal.

"Merlin..." Sirius breathed. Molly began waving her wand over the boy, eyes widening.

"Up to the thigh! It's all metal and machinery!" Molly gasped, "The right arm, too! Right at the shoulder!"

"Prostheses? Muggle Prostheses?" Sirius asked, "I thought his clothes looked... but a _muggle?_"

"Molly?" The elderly voice called from the hall.

"Oh, Albus! In here!" Molly shouted.

"I'm sorry I took so long, dear, I was in he middle of something," Albus said walking into the room. His eyes found the unconscious boy on the bed, "What have we here?"

"He fell right out of the ceiling!" Sirius said, "This bright blue light sparking all over the ceiling and then there was this weird circle, and he fell right through the middle of it onto the floor!"

Albus' eyes flashed strangely as he looked the boy over, walking to the bed.

"How... interesting," He said.

"Not only that, but I think he's a muggle!" Molly said, "Look, he has muggle prostheses."

"So he does," Albus said, "Perhaps we ought to wake him up, and have a word with the boy?"

* * *

><p>"What's going on?" Ginny asked as Ron and Hermione came into the room.<p>

"We don't really know," Hermione said, "Sirius yelled for your mum and when we all showed up there was this boy on the floor in the upstairs sitting room."

"Sirius rushed us out before we could get a good look," Ron said.

The door burst open and Fred and George came in.

"I don't know who the bloke is," Fred started.

"But he was in a right state," George continued.

"Knocked out cold, for sure," Fred finished.

"Reckon' he's a Death Eater?" Ron asked tactlessly.

"Ron, he's younger than we are!"

"So? Malfoy's practically a Death Eater." Ron mumbled.

"Let's not jump to conclusions, Ronald," Hermione huffed, "You know where that's gotten us before."

"But then..."

"Where _did_ he come from?"

The twins' question was definitely reasonable, where _had_ the boy come from?

* * *

><p>Slowly consciousness returned to Edward and he groggily tried to sort out the thoughts running through his mind and remember where he was.<p>

Right, he didn't know where he was.

Truth.

Presumably, Truth had simply dumped him somewhere in this world he's supposed to save. So, quick recap: he was in a world he was completely unfamiliar with, unconscious, and, from the comfortable mattress he felt beneath him, he'd been found by someone; possibly someone he didn't really want to know. Edward began to hear muffled voices around him, steadily increasing in volume, as the last vestiges of sleep left him and he entered the realm of wakefulness.

As they finally came to an understandable volume he realized that he did not understand them at all. They were speaking in a foreign language completely unfamiliar to him. Edward mentally snorted. Of _course _they were. He was in an entirely different _world, _why would they speak any of the languages _he_ knew?

Well, it was no use delaying the innevitable. Slowly, Edward opened his eyes, and before him were three people. One was a portly woman with red hair, her face etched with concern. Edward mentally breathed a sigh a relief. Not hostile, for now at least. The second was a man, with long, messy black hair and neatly trimmed facial hair, who looked at him curiously. The last was quite strange, an old man with a long white beard and half-moon glasses perched on his nose. The last looked at him suspiciously.

Suspicious old men. He'd had enough of _those_ thankyouverymuch.

The old man spoke, to him he could only assume, in a stern tone. The woman seemed to berate the older man, then turned back to Edward, seeming to ask him something kindly.

Edward furrowed his brow; now this was just frustrating! You'd think if Truth was going to dump him in a foreign world and expect him to save it, he'd at least give him knowledge of he language. No, wait. Truth was an _asshole_.

The woman looked confused and the younger man said something with a raised eyebrow. He then seemed to address Edward, speaking much slower than the other two. Edward scowled.

"_*I'm not stupid, I just don't know your damn language!*"_ Edward said in Amestrian.

The woman gasped. The younger man's eyebrows seemed to rise above his hairline. The old man furrowed his brow in confusion. The woman asked the old man something hurriedly, and the old man shook his head in response. A voice called from down the hall and the black haired man seemed to brighten considerably, yelling back. A man walked into the room who looked a little worse for wear. He looked very tired and had a scratch on his face. Closer inspection revealed that it was not the first to be there, as a myriad of light scars were scattered over his face. His light brown hair was streaked with gray and his eyes were a curious yellow, not quite gold like his own, yet not as brown as Hawkeye's.

The new entry smiled at the black haired man, seeming to greet him, but then caught a glimpse of Edward, turning a confused gaze upon him. Edward, sick of lying down and craning his neck to see everything, pushed himself upright. The woman immediately began nattering at him and put a hand on his shoulder, pushing lightly, obviously wanting him to lay back down. Edward shook his head, bringing up his left hand and resting it on her wrist, gently moving it away from him. The woman looked concerned, but didn't fight him. The brown haired man moved more fully into the room asking the others something, to which the old man replied. The black haired man seemed to elaborate on what the old man said with foreign words and wild hand gestures. The woman added her two cents and the man's eyebrows finished raising above his hairline.

The brown haired man quickly asked something of the old man, who replied with a frustrated shake of his head.

Edward made to growl in frustration, but his stomach beat him to it. He blushed as the woman chuckled and said something in a reassuring tone, patting his cheek once before bustling out of the room. He really hoped she brought back food. He should have had something before he left...

* * *

><p>"The language," Albus said after Molly had left, "Sounds <em>vaguely<em> similar to German, but this only through the way he spoke, the words themselves... I am at a loss."

"How strange," Remus said, looking curiously at the boy who seemed to be getting angrier by the second, "A language that even you don't know."

"That _is_ weird," Sirius said, "But the question is, what the bloody hell are we going to do about it? This is a _serious_ language barrier to break, and if _you_ don't know the language I reckon no muggle will either, so we can't just set him out on his own in London."

"You are right, Sirius," Albus said with a dangerous twinkle in his eye, "We must teach him English."

"_What?_" Sirius asked, "That would take _months_! _Years_!"

"What other option is there?" Remus said with a frown, looking at the boy.

"I believe he will catch on quickly," Albus said mysteriously, "I would teach him myself, however I have other matters that I need attend to."

"_I'm _not bloody well teaching him!" Sirius protested, "And who else is around here enough to do it?"

"What about Miss Granger?" Albus suggested, "She's a bright girl."

"That.. could work," Remus said, "Molly could help, and whenever I'm around I'd be happy to as well."

Just then, Molly came back into the room, smiling kindly at the boy with a tray full of food floating in front of her. The boy blanched for a moment before seeming to remember something and looking curiously at the tray. The food seemed to take his attention then and the boy brightened, looking quite hungry. Molly set the tray on his lap and gestured to it.

"Eat as much as you like," She said kindly.

"It's not like he can understand you..." Sirius said.

"It's still polite to acknowledge him," She snapped, glaring at him a moment. She turned back and the boy had begun to devour all the food in sight. Molly positively beamed.

"Oh, I'm so glad you like it!"

* * *

><p>At least the food looked familiar! Not to mention it was damn good. He devoured everything in front of him in record time. There was even a bowl of <em>stew<em>.

He fucking _loved_ stew.

* * *

><p>"There's also one other thing..." Sirius regretted having to bring it up again, but it had to be done, "What if he's not exactly... on our side."<p>

There, he said it in the nicest way possible.

"Sirius Black!" Molly yelled angrily, "I told you before! This is a _child_, not a Death Eater!"

"I agree with you, Molly," Dumbledore said agreeably, "But I would rather err on the side of caution, wouldn't you? We will, of course, keep an eye on the boy."

"Alright," Molly huffed, "But I will not have Alastor anywhere near him!"

"Of course, Molly," Albus agreed, "I'm afraid, however, I must take my leave. He is in your capable hands. Remus, I trust you to tell young Miss Granger her task."

"Yes, of course."

"Very good," Albus said smiling, "Good evening to you, then."

He turned to the boy who was finishing up eating, putting down the silver ware and wiping his mouth.

"And farewell to you, as well, young man," He gave a short wave and the boy seemed to get the idea, raising his hand in what seemed to be a wave, before it turned sharply into a salute.

* * *

><p><em>That<em> probably confused them, Edward thought with a mental snicker.

* * *

><p>Confusion indeed. Albus left, with more questions than he had arrived.<p>

Sirius looked at the boy curiously. He he was _right_. The kid was military. But _what_ military? And, unless the guy ran into serious issues with anti-aging cream, _what kind of military lets in a kid?_ He couldn't be older than Harry.

Molly levitated the tray off of his lap, going to clean everything up and put it away, but was caught by the wrist before she could move. The boy's left hand had her in a gentle grip. He said something and tilted his body in what could be considered a half bow. Molly smiled.

"Oh, it was no trouble, dear," She said kindly.

The boy seemed satisfied and released the motherly woman who swept out of the room.

"Sooo..." Sirius said awkwardly, drawing the attention of the boy, "Oh, hey! Let's try this."

Sirius locked eyes with the boy, making sure he had his attention before pointing to himself.

"Sirius Black," He said.

The boy's eyes lit with understanding and he nodded.

"Sirius Black," He said in return, though it seemed to be heavily accented, then looked at Remus.

Remus pointed at himself as well.

"Remus Lupin," He said.

The boy nodded again.

"Remus Lupin," the boy replied. He then pointed to himself and Sirius curiously waited with bated breath.

"Eduard Elric," He said.

Remus clapped his hands together and smiled.

"Well, good!" He said, "At least now we know what to call you."

Molly came back into the room, carrying what seemed to be pajamas.

"Oh, yes," Sirius said, pointing at the witch, "Molly Weasley."

"Molly... Veasley," Edward said with an uneasy smile, then pointed to himself, "Eduard Elric."

"Oh!" She said, holding out her left hand – remembering the prosthetic right – to shake, "It's very nice to meet you, Edward."

Edward shook her hand lightly.

"Now it's getting quite late, why don't you rest?" Molly asked, placing the pajamas she had brought in onto the bed and tugging at the covers. Edward nodded his understanding and Molly shooed Remus and Sirius out of the room before leaving herself and closing the door.

* * *

><p>Well, at least they seemed nice, Edward thought as he was left alone in the room. He stood and pulled off the tan cloak, then began with the buttons on his military uniform. How on the damn earth had Al convinced him to wear it to go to Ishval? Something about respecting the bastard and his profession, and showing gratitude by following the rules or some bullshit like that.<p>

However, there were more important things to worry about. He had determined that the people of this place were not hostile, and were, in fact, some of those wizards that Truth had told him about. Edward could only imagine that he had been dropped somewhere on the street outside, or even on their dining room table. Edward snorted at that thought. Ed pulled off the blue overcoat, tossing it back on the bed, starting with the _more damn buttons_ on the white collared shirt underneath. So, he was, for now, in good hands. At least he seemed relatively sure that the red haired woman, Molly... Weasley he had heard, but just couldn't get himself to say properly, was intent on mothering him and wouldn't let a hair on his head be harmed. He should ask for a few books on their language, starting with a dictionary, to at least familiarize himself with their alphabet and possibly gain _some_ kind of understanding of the language. Ask... right... Edward wasn't really keen on the idea of playing charades for the books, but he'd done worse for the sake of reading material.

Ed then realized that his boots had already been removed. Probably when they put him on the bed. Edward frowned, realizing they had seen his auto-mail leg, and likely further inspected and found his arm. He didn't know what this world had in way of prostheses, but he would likely end up having to explain how he'd lost them. Edward didn't think 'I lost them in the Eastern Rebellion' was going to fly this time. Edward then realized an unusual weight in his pocket. Frowning he reached into the pocket and muffled a curse.

_Someone bumped into his side and Edward looked up in surprise to see Hawkeye._

"_Oh, I'm sorry Edward," She said with a smile, before moving to sit next to Mustang._

Edward traced the clear outline of Hawkeye's pistol in his pocket. He pulled it out in alarm, looking down at the small firearm, polished to a shine. Edward was torn between smiling at her thoughtfulness, groaning at her over protectiveness, or thanking his lucky stars that these people hadn't seen it. Instead of choosing, he made sure the safety was on – it was – and put it under his pillow. He had basic training with the thing, he'd just never actually used it in a fight.

Ed sighed and finished undressing, slipping the pajamas on that Molly had brought him. They were a little loose, but comfortable.

Come to think of it, what the hell was he going to tell these people? 'Oh, hi, I'm from another world sent to kill some jackass?' Yeah, right. The language barrier will keep questions at bay for a while, so he could figure that out in time, he supposed. Ed flopped back down on the bed with a groan. This was all just so damn stupid. Edward steeled his expression, thinking back. He'd brought this on himself. The day they tried to bring their mother back, Ed knew he would be paying for a long time. He _chose_ to go this one alone, and alone he would face it; difficult or not.

A light knock at the door reminded him of the people in this house and he answered shortly. It's not like they could understand, but they might get the gist of it.

"*_Ya?*_" He called.

He heard a female voice, Molly then, on the other side of the door, before the knob turned and the woman herself tentatively poked her head through. Seeing him dressed and sitting on the bed she came fully into the room, smiling. She glanced at the clothes he had simply left lying on the bed, saying something. Edward looked at them and just shrugged, grinning sheepishly at Molly. The woman tutted and pulled out a... stick, waving it at the clothes and they began to fold themselves. Edward looked on in disguised fascination; he could see why Truth was displeased.

Molly finished folding the clothes and set them on a chair nearby, moving his boots – _there _they are – over from the foot of the bed to just next to the chair as well. She ran her hands curiously over his badge of honor – for his valor during the Promised Day – and the gold stripes and stars on the shoulder – Lieutenant-Colonel, also a reward for his valor on the Promised Day; as if he really wanted a promotion.

She then turned back to him with a soft smile, her glance flicking to his right hand for just a second – he'd taken off his gloves, what was the point? They'd already seen it – before she began tugging at the sheets, saying something. It seemed she wanted him to rest. Now that he thought of it, he was rather tired.

Edward liked Molly. Even though she knew he couldn't understand her, she still spoke to him as if he could, gesturing appropriately so that he would understand. It was very kind of her, at least. He let her tuck him under the blankets, reveling in their warmth and comfort, finding himself asleep as soon as he hit the pillows, muttering quietly.

"*_Thank you.*_"

* * *

><p>AN: Beginning with the next chapter I will be using a few German terms. I felt there should be a rather distinct parallel between the worlds and in the first anime that was Germany to Amestris - not to mention the use of the word Fuhrer, a German title. There will be a few simple words that are the same as the German, and a few that are similar, and I might even make up a couple that are just straight Amestrian, that Edward will use.

Thanks for your reviews, I loved reading them =).

~Tak


	3. Chapter 3

_*Amestrian*_

English

_Emphasis_

* * *

><p><strong>To Settle a Debt<strong>

**Chapter 3**

* * *

><p>Hermione woke early, and quickly got out of bed, wanting to find out about the boy that appeared in Gimmauld place as soon as she could. She showered quickly and charmed her hair dry, dressing and heading downstairs. She heard noise and muffled talking from the kitchen so she turned that way, cautiously opening the kitchen door and poking her head inside. The delicious smell of breakfast his her full force as she looked inside. Mrs. Weasley was busily preparing something on the stove and Professor Lupin sat at the counter with a cup of what Hermione assumed to be coffee.<p>

"Well at least we were able to figure out his _name_," Mrs. Weasley was saying, "The poor boy has obviously been through a lot; muggle prostheses! I didn't think they had anything near so advanced, though. He seemed to move just fine, as if they were a real arm and leg... But I don't know much about muggle contraptions. And did you see that little scar on his forehead? Over his right eye?"

He was _missing _an _arm _and a _leg_?

"To suddenly find himself in a place where no one even speaks his language..." Molly frowned, sadly, "It must be quite a shock to him, us babbling in some language he doesn't even know."

"He doesn't speak English?" Hermione asked, shocked, drawing attention to herself.

"Good morning, Miss Granger," Remus greeted with a smile, then frowned slightly, "No, he doesn't speak English, but we were able to figure out that his name is Edward. Albus didn't even recognize his language, though. It's strange however, you'd _think_ he'd be rather shocked by this all, but he seems almost _unnaturally_ calm."

"Remus, no need to bother the girl with such things," Molly said, levitating a plate to the counter, "Sit and have Breakfast, dear."

"Actually, Molly," Remus said, "Albus wants her to try to teach him English."

Hermione's eyes widened.

"Me?" She said, pointing to herself incredulously, "But if we don't even know what language _he_ speaks, then how am I supposed to teach him English?"

"You're a bright girl," Remus said and Hermione blushed at the compliment, "Truth be told, there's really no one else with the time except Sirius, and he..."

"No way in bloody hell am I teaching a kid a _language_," Sirius said, walking into the room and taking a seat next to Remus.

Hermione frowned and sat in front of the plate that Mrs. Weasley had placed for her, munching lightly at the food. She thought about how exactly she would pull off teaching a boy a language when she didn't even know his.

"I'm going to need some books," She said finally, "A dictionary and a few muggle English language textbooks. Even though he'd be only just learning, he isn't a child, so we could use higher grade level texts..."

"There's a muggle book store down the street," Sirius said, "I could take-"

"Sirius, you know you're not allowed to leave the house!" Mrs. Weasley scolded, placing a plate of food in front of him.

Sirius scowled, attacking the food with his fork.

"At least not alone," Remus said with a pointed look at Mrs. Weasley, "Can't do too much as a dog, I'll go as well."

Sirius brightened considerably at the prospect of going outside, and Hermione could understand. The man had been cooped up in this house for way to long.

"Alright, fine," Mrs. Weasley conceded with a huff, "Why don't you head down there now while I take some food up to Edward, I bet the boys won't be awake for some time now."

"Oh, the kid's awake?" Sirius asked.

"Yes," Mrs. Weasley frowned, "I went in to check on him when I woke up and I found him already awake, _stretching_ of all things."

"Well he seems to be military, doesn't he?" Sirius said.

"I have to agree," Mrs. Weasley said, "You saw his clothes, and there were even gold stars and stripes on the shoulders, like a lot of muggle army uniforms. Oh, but he's just so young. Could he really? And how strange was it that he hardly even flinched when I floated the tray in, I can't believe I had forgotten for a moment that he might be a muggle. With the way he responded, or rather _didn't _respond, do you think he might be a wizard?"

"Well, he didn't seem to have a wand, but we won't know so long as he doesn't speak a word of English," Remus said, standing, "So let's get to that book store. Do you think it's open, yet, Sirius?"

Sirius shrugged with a sheepish grin and stood as well before turning into his animagus form. Hermione finished off the last of her breakfast before standing as well.

"Thank you for breakfast, Mrs. Weasley," She said.

"No trouble at all, dear," She said levitating a tray of food and exiting the room.

"Shall we?" Remus said, gesturing to the door.

* * *

><p>They had shown up at the book store just as it was being opened for the day as luck would have it. Hermione happily inhaled the scent of the musty books as she browsed he store for what she needed. Hermione was able to buy a dictionary and a few big English textbooks with some muggle money that her parents gave her before she left for Grimmauld Place.<p>

"You never know when you might need it," Her mother had said kindly.

Hermione honestly didn't think she _would_ need it. But here she was. She smiled lightly as Sirius – Snuffles – poked the back of her leg with his nose and she looked down, keeping the short stack of books balanced carefully. Sirius trotted ahead a bit and spun in a short circle looking up at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place as it appeared in the empty space between eleven and thirteen.

Hermione rushed up the steps and Remus opened the door for Hermione. Sirius stayed at the bottom of the steps for a second, looking around at the trees across the street and sniffing at the outside air before following them inside, Remus closing the door behind him.

"FILTH! I WILL NOT HAVE MUGGLE FILTH IN MY HOUSE-"

Loud yelling followed the screeching of Sirius' mother. Sirius turned back into his human form with a scowl. Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion. The returning yell was very clearly in a foreign language. More yelling from the portrait, and response from who Hermione guessed to be Edward. Hermione rushed down the hall toward the voices when suddenly she heard a loud bang and silence fell. Hermione put the books on a table in the hall, quickly making her way around the corner and to the bottom of the stairs that the portrait hung on the landing of. Remus and Sirius rushed behind her and they came upon the scene. Mrs. Weasley stood with wide eyes and a hand clasped over her mouth, Ginny standing gaping at her side, and Edward stood directly in front of the portrait, anger clear on his face, wet hair thrown into a hurried ponytail.

...With a gloved fist in the portrait of Walburga Black. On the portrait, the stunned woman looked, shocked and horrified, at the hole ripped in the canvas. Sirius shook himself from his shock first and put his hand on Edward's wrist, making him flinch away, turning his angry glare from the portrait to Sirius, and drew the curtain in front of the portrait with a snap, before turning back to see Edward lowering his hand and falling into a slouch as he frowned and seemed to realize that he had lost his temper. His eyes slowly turned to look at the audience. Edward then turned sharply and began to walk stiffly up the stairs.

"Oh, wait, Edward!" Mrs. Weasley seemed to come to her senses and followed after the boy, "It's alright. We've all been wanting to do that."

She took hold of Edward's right wrist and he seemed to freeze at that, turning his head only to look at them. Mrs. Weasley stepped forward and put another hand on his upper arm.

"Come along, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, tugging lightly on the arm she knew to be made of metal, "Come sit with us in the living room. Hermione, did you get the books you needed?"

Hermione seemed to return to herself and looked at the blond haired boy a moment before meeting eyes with Ginny, who just shrugged. Her eyes returned to the boy, Edward.

"Yes," She said, "I just set them down back there..."

"Good," Mrs. Weasley said beginning to lead Edward down the hall, "Bring them to the living room just here. And Remus, would you go get a glass of water? He didn't drink the milk I brought with breakfast..."

"Of course..." Hermione said backing down the hall to get the books from the table she had dumped them on, eyes not leaving Edward. He looked up at her and their eyes met. She nearly let out an 'eep' of surprise at the intense golden color of them, turning on her heel and rushing to the books she had left behind.

* * *

><p>That morning, Edward had just finished a few combat exercises, working out a little frustration, when Molly came into the room with a smile and a tray of food. She set the tray on a small table next to the chair she had placed his clothes the night before. She pulled out her stick and waved it, causing the clothes to float up and settle on the bed instead. She said something and gestured to the chair, telling him to sit, he assumed. He took a seat and looked at the mouth watering food in front of him.<p>

"_*Thank you.*_" He said, beginning to eat. She repeated a phrase he had heard her say before, with a smile.

"You're welcome."

He continued to eat until he caught sight of it.

_Milk._

"_*So we meet again.*_" Edward said glaring at the milk as he finished the plate of food.

At the sound of his voice, Molly looked up from seemingly inspecting Edward's uniform and saw him glaring at the milk, then looking her way quickly, before turning back to the milk.

"_*I hate milk.*_" He said, knowing she didn't understand, but hoping she'd get the idea.

She seemed to; unfortunately it made her put her hands on her hips, giving her sternest look and pointing at the glass of milk, saying something short enough that he caught the words, if not the meaning.

"Drink it."

He imagined they were something along the lines of 'Drink it.'

"_*No.*_" Edward said stubbornly shaking his head.

Molly's eyes widened slightly and she looked surprised.

"Nein?" She repeated curiously.

She recognized the word.

_She recognized the word!_

Now _that_ was interesting, was his language similar to one of this world? Enough to share words? Molly seemed to mutter something to herself, then smiled at Edward, seeming to remember something. She put a hand on his arm, tugging on it a bit and he stood, following her to a door on the other side of the room.

Oh, the bathroom. He had made his way through the dark to it when he was woken up last night needing to find it. She waved her stick, turning the lights in the bathroom on and leading Ed to the shower, gesturing to it with a questioning glance. Right, he probably _should_ shower. He nodded, and Molly left, closing the door behind her.

After he showered he dried off thoroughly with a towel, making sure that his auto-mail had not even a drop of water left on it, and throwing his hair up in a quick pony tail. Edward poked his head out the door, looking around 'his' room. It was empty save his folded clothes that were back on the chair and a new set of clothes on the bed. Long black pants, a white button down shirt same as the one he wore under the uniform and a pair of boxers. He walked fully into the room and put the clothes on, remembering to thank Molly, and shoved on his boots, taking his gloves from on top of his folded uniform and slipping them on.

Edward took some time to assess his situation. These people seemed, for now, to mean him no harm. So there was no need to transmute a hole in their wall and make a break for it. It would probably be in his best interest to keep a tight hold on his temper. Edward twitched at the thought. It wasn't going to be easy. He needed to make use of whatever he could, so he might learn their language and more about this world.

Edward looked at the door for a moment before making the decision to venture out of the room. He opened the door and walked out into a long hall lined with portraits. Portraits that moved. Edward might never get used to this whole _magic _thing. Seeing a staircase at the end he decided to go that way. He heard the floor creak a ways behind him and he turned sharply to see two identical red haired boys walking out from another room down the hall. They caught sight of him and froze, like deer in headlights, before snapping out of it and running back into the room they had come from, shutting the door loudly.

Edward smirked. Serves them right for being too curious.

* * *

><p><em>A short creak of the wooden floor roused Edward from his sleep. He heard voices whispering in their unfamiliar language as they draw closer. Edward's left hand, which had been under the pillow, grasped Hawkeye's pistol, preparing to draw it out. The intruders, two of them, Ed thought, 'sneaked' up to his bed, whispering to each other all the way. They were close and Ed figured now was the time to act.<em>

_So quickly one of them even screamed shortly Ed whipped upright, pulling the gun out from underneath the pillow and pointing it at the offending party, glaring at them menacingly. They froze for a while, staring in wide-eyed astonishment at the firearm; long enough for Ed's eyes to adjust enough to see their faces. Then Ed cocked the gun. _

_They ran like hell._

_He watched them go in confusion. Clearly they hadn't been there to hurt him. They were curious, Ed decided on with a snort. They looked to be no older than himself. Sighing Ed carefully de-cocked the gun and put it back under the pillow. Then he realized he really needed to use the bathroom._

* * *

><p>Ed snorted. Stupid kids.<p>

He walked down the staircase and got to a landing before Ed accidentally knocked into a banister with his foot with a fairly loud bang.

All of a sudden a woman's voice started screeching and curtains, which had been drawn in front of a portrait flew open revealing the source. Molly came rushing to the bottom of the stairs, followed by a younger red haired girl.

Now Edward may not understand a word the portrait of that... woman was yelling, but if the sour look on her face, the harshness of the words, and the way she was glaring directly at him with crazy-eyes meant anything, he was being insulted.

So he yelled back.

He sat on the couch in the small living room, still simmering slightly, Molly fussing over his wet hair and muttering some _magic, _astonishingly drying it completely. The young red haired girl stood nervously nearby and Molly pointed at her.

"Ginny Weasley," Molly said.

Her daughter, of course. Those twins were probably her sons as well.

"Ginny Veasley," Edward repeated with a nod, holding out his left hand. The girl nervously smiled and reached out her right hand, before she realized he had his left out, correcting herself and shaking it.

The brown haired girl from before came into the room them, a stack of books in her arms up to her chin, followed shortly by Remus who set a glass of water on the table. She put the books down onto the table in front of him with a huff before turning to look at him with a smile. She pointed to herself.

"Hermione Granger," She said carefully.

Well shit, that just wasn't nice. Ed frowned and worked his way around her name.

"Her-my-oh-nee," He said, getting a nod and a smile from the girl, more confidently he finished, "Granger."

She nodded happily and extended her right hand. Edward looked at it nervously for a second, before shaking it very lightly with his auto-mail hand.

"Eduard Elric," He said.

Hermione turned and grabbed a book off of the stack holding it up in front of him so he could see the title. The word looked _very_ familiar, and Ed realized that they used the same Alphabet, at least.

'Dictionary'

Not very far from the word 'Diktionärie' in Amestrian. They were going to teach him their language.

About damn time, Edward thought.

* * *

><p>The next several days were a haze of activity. People filed into the house; whatever had kept them away seemed to have been put on hold. There was always talk of a 'meeting', a word he had learned, of the 'order' (although with the way they said it, it sounded more like 'Order'). Molly seemed to by trying her best to keep him away from all the activity, so he mainly stayed in either his room, or the library learning 'English' from Hermione. Molly would bring his meals to him, he imagined it was to keep him from the dining room where everyone else was. He'd gotten used to Hermione's name, and could say it without trouble, now. They had also discovered that they had the same numerical system.<p>

It also seemed that those twins, the ones that had sneaked into his room the first night, weren't _actually_ that scared of him. They were merely... investigating him by keeping their distance and watching. They didn't have any problem, anymore, with just popping out of thin air right next to him to make him jump ten feet in the air. However, for some reason, it seemed as though he never mentioned the gun to anyone else in the house.

There was a particular incident with them that he didn't think they would soon forget. When he was in the library with Hermione one afternoon, they had popped in to bother them, as per usual. He understood more and more of what they said every day. On this day he very clearly heard a certain word.

_Little_

"LITTLE? Vho the_ *hell*_ are you calling so small he could *_fit through the eye of a needle?* _Come here_ *you freakishly tall bastards!*"_

The two began laughing uproariously at him, and his inability to freak out properly in their language and popped out of the room just before Ed's fist met one of their _stupid _faces.

Hermione was trying, unsuccessfully, to muffle her giggles.

"Vhat are you _*laughing*_ at? Huh?"

So much for keeping his temper.

It turned out that Molly's husband, Arthur, he had learned, had been there the first night, but had gotten in quite late and left quite early the next morning. The man had a curious look in his eye that Edward decided he didn't like. He also didn't like the rapid fire questions that the man sent his way about 'muggle' this and 'muggle' that. He was learning, but he hardly knew enough of their blasted 'English' to know that the hell he was talking about. Molly had placatingly ushered him out with an apologetic glance.

Edward learned how to say many things, and Hermione seemed very pleased, if not a little shocked, at his progress. However, she didn't really know him and how he could practically inhale information, but she was learning. He could say simple phrases and know what they meant and he took to listening carefully to everything that people said. He would constantly look up a new word he heard in the dictionary, trying to relate it to one of his own words. Hermione told him that his language was slightly similar with one called 'German', and provided him a book written in German for him to find all the little similarities.

It was mostly titles and simple words that were the same in this German language, and a few other choice words had certain similarities, but were not the same. The vast majority of it was practically gibberish.

Edward was sitting in the library with Hermione, about a week into his stay in this world, working their way through another lesson, which were getting easier every time, when he heard what was clearly an argument in the hall between Molly and some growling man. Hermione looked up at the door with worry, biting her lip nervously. That was never a good thing, he'd discovered. Edward strained to hear and understand what he could.

"...some strange foreign kid in this house! He could be a Death Eater spy for all we know!" The man seemed to growl, "Your misplaced trust is going to get us all killed, Weasley!"

"He's just a child!" Molly protested hotly, "A child that knows hardly a lick of English; only what we've taught him! He's harmless Alastor, and we _have_ been watching him, but Albus said to me that you wouldn't be anywhere near the boy!"

The man growled defensively.

"You trust Albus, don't you?" Molly asked in a quiet hiss that Edward could barely hear.

"Fine," The man said, "But! This will come up in the meeting tonight, I will speak to Albus myself, and hear it from him!"

"Well good, then walk the other way, Alastor," Molly said in triumph.

Edward heard a grunt and the man walked away with strange steps; a light footstep and then the bang of wood on wood. From what he understood about that conversation, the man was not happy with his presence and Molly scared him off. The door opened and Molly came in with a smile, two trays of food hovering behind her.

"Lunch!" She said happily.

* * *

><p>Albus sat calmly at the head of the table as the members of the Order filed into the room, Alastor with a particular scowl on his face. The questions began before everyone was even fully seated.<p>

"Albus, who _is_ that boy?" Kingsley asked.

"Molly hasn't let any of us near him..." Tonks added.

"Suspicious! Very suspicious! He should be questioned under Veritaserum!" Moody called.

"Now, now," Albus interjected, "Everyone have a seat and we may discuss... Edward Elric, you said his name was, Molly?"

"That's right," Molly said with a nod.

When a tense silence fell, Albus stood.

"As you may have noticed, we have a new occupant here at Grimmauld place," Albus said, "Edward Elric appeared in this house a little more than a week ago under strange circumstances."

"What do you mean, appeared?" Tonks asked.

"Exactly that," Sirius said, "I was just in the sitting room alone when there was this sudden flash of blue light and this circle appeared on the ceiling. He dropped right through it to the floor."

"Have you been able to draw up what, exactly, it looked like?" Albus asked.

"I've tried my best to remember," Sirius said, pulling out a sheet of paper, and pushing it across the table toward Dumbledore, "This is pretty much it."

Albus picked up the rough drawing and studied it a moment, eyes beginning to twinkle.

"Yes, yes," Albus said, "It is as I thought, he arrived through some strange means of alchemy."

"Alchemy?" Minerva spoke, "You mean like Flamel?"

"Not quite, my dear," Albus said, "I speak of the original alchemy that Nicolas once studied and changed into the alchemy that I know. I speak of the alchemy of muggles."

"_Muggle_ alchemy?" Arthur said, "You mean when they tried and _failed_ to invent alchemy without magic?"

"Precisely," Albus said, "However it was not magic that they lacked, Arthur, it was knowledge. Knowledge I believe this Edward may have."

"You think he's an alchemist?" Molly asked incredulously, "But the only thing I've seen him do is stretch and exercise, wouldn't he be practicing along with that?"

"He would if he were still learning," Albus said, "But I believe that it is possible that we have on our hands, a _master_ alchemist."

"But where did he _come_ from?" Arthur asked, "You heard what I said, muggles _failed_ to create alchemy. Where did he learn it?"

"This, I do not know," Albus said, "And we will be able to find out once he learns English, along with the answers to many other questions. Molly, how is his English coming?"

"Well," Molly said, "It's coming quite well actually; he seems to be an incredibly intelligent boy."

"All the more reason to be suspicious of him!" Alastor interposed, "We must be _vigilant_!He could be anyone, come from any_where_! We cannot foolishly let him do as he pleases, he must be watched!"

"And he will be, Alastor," Albus said agreeably, "But we must be careful lest we lose _his_ trust. Alastor, I'm afraid you just might scare the boy off. This is an opportunity that I intend to take full advantage of."

"Advantage?" Molly said defensively, "He is a child, Albus! Sixteen! Only a little older than our Hermione. Not to mention, he seems to be a muggle..."

"A muggle who has reacted calmly to all forms of magic used in front of him, you said yourself, he might be more than he seems," Remus said, curiously.

"And you've _seen_ his arm and leg, not to mention the uniform he showed up in, and that scar," Sirius said with a frown, "I think that this boy has seen war; sixteen or not, I don't believe that he is a child."

"It doesn't matter what he's seen!" Molly said, "A child is a child; what next? Will you send Harry to fight? Hermione? My boys?"

"Stop playing the child card!" Alastor said with a growl, "I swear if you say the word one more time..."

"How dare you threaten my wife!"

"I ain't afraid of no-"

"Child! I said it, and I'll say it again!"

"Molly, calm-"

"That's it! You-"

"ENOUGH!"

The angry, booming voice halted all arguments and all attention turned to Albus, looking at them all disappointingly over his half-moon glasses.

"I'm sorry Molly, but I suppose there is only one compromise that is most beneficial," Albus said regrettably, "Edward must be treated like a child, or as a master alchemist and military officer that he seems to be. I am inclined toward the latter.-"

"But-" Molly began to protest, moisture swelling in her eyes.

"Molly, no," Albus said, "And if my judgment is not to be trusted on this matter," a guilt inducing look at Alastor who merely glared in response, "then when he is able to speak English well enough, we will question him under Veritaserum."

A short sniffle came from Molly.

"Sirius, you are given the task of watching the boy. So, if that is all that needed to be addressed tonight, this meeting is adjourned," Albus swept his questioning glance across the room, when met with silence he continued, "Very well, then. You are all dismissed."

* * *

><p>The twins reeled in the extendable ears quickly before the door opened and the group rushed to the nearest room, shutting the door quietly.<p>

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks again for all your helpful reviews. I'm so glad you all like the story so far =). As a quick comment, when Edward first introduced himself I used the German spelling of the name. I didn't really want him calling himself Edvard.

German:

Nein - No


	4. Chapter 4

_*Amestrian*_

English

_Emphasis_

* * *

><p><strong>To Settle a Debt<strong>

**Chapter 4**

* * *

><p>Ed heard the last of the footsteps leaving the dining room as the meeting concluded. As Edward transmuted the small microphone and speaker back into the wall and the plating over his auto-mail arm, he realized that this house just became enemy territory. He didn't know what 'veritaserum' was but he sure as hell didn't like the sound of it especially when it came after the words 'questioned under'. Edward hadn't been asked any kind of questions yet, to his great surprise, and he supposed that it was only a matter of time. He had learned all the basics of English already, and would probably be able to answer any questions of theirs well enough. However, he didn't really know what exactly he was going to say. They might just think he was mad if he told them the truth.<p>

Edward stood and went to the door, carefully opening it and looking out into the hall. Seeing that the kids who had been at the top of the stairs, listening in on the meeting as well, were gone and no one had come upstairs he slipped out into the hall and made his way to his room quietly. When he entered his room he pulled the belt off of his pants and clapped his hands, placing them on it. He transmuted it into a holster for the pistol. He went to the dresser – that had been filled with clothes for him – and pulled out another belt, clapping his hands again and transmuting the holster to the side of the belt, before opening another drawer – one that held his uniform and cloak – and placed it under the clothing.

From what he understood, he had been deemed untrustworthy during that meeting, much to Molly's dismay. Also, the old man seemed to want to use him and his alchemy for something. If necessary, he needed to be ready for anything. That included keeping the pistol on his person at all times, just in case. He pulled the pistol out from under the tan cloak and walked over to the bed, checking the safety and putting it under his pillow as he had every night since arriving.

He changed quickly then and slipped under the covers, left hand under the pillow resting on the gun, falling into a light sleep, so that he may wake at any moment necessary.

When he woke the next morning he quickly showered and dressed, putting on the belt with the gun holster and putting the pistol in it. His shirt fell to cover it mostly, and Ed put on the tan cloak as well to hide it completely. It would be a little warm, but even if they knew he was an alchemist, they didn't know he could transmute without a circle, and it would be best to keep that to himself as a trump card, so carrying the hidden firearm was his best option for now. Truth told him not to underestimate this magic in capable hands, and even though he had only seen it used for mundane purposes up until now, he heeded he warning.

Edward decided to forgo exercises this morning, in favor of making his way to the library early. He knew enough English to hold a conversation, but a lot of the time he found himself sticking on words that he didn't know. Not to mention his thick accent; he needed to work on that. He planned to get in as much study as possible today.

He also wanted to get his hands on a few of their books and begin researching the task he had been sent to this world to complete. He needed to find out anything he could about this 'Tom Riddle'. He needed to learn as much about magic that he could as well. Riddle was likely using it to achieve 'God', so he would want all the information he could get his hands on.

The house seemed to be pretty much dead this early in the morning and the only sounds that could be heard were muffled clangs from the kitchen – Molly most likely. Edward got to the library and immediately opened one of the last of the English textbooks and set it in his lap, getting to work. For a while he was entirely focused on the work before him, but the silence of the library allowed his mind to drift and he realized something.

He had desperately wanted to trust these people.

For the first time in his life, Edward was genuinely _alone_. He'd always had his brother, or Winry, or the chimeras, or Mustang and the team. Now, though... he had no one. Edward clenched the book tightly; so he had _stupidly_ let himself trust these people. What kind of soldier was he? Well, he knew he wasn't a good soldier... but he was an alchemist, damn it! He was supposed to be a _genius_, a _prodigy_. But here he was, acting like a kid, trusting these people because he was _scared_. And, why? No reason. There was absolutely no reason he should trust them.

Edward growled in frustration, forcing himself to focus on the book in front of him. The _minute_ these people made a hostile move, he was out of here. For now, he would take advantage of their resources.

With a sudden swoosh, the door burst open and Molly bustled inside, breakfast floating behind her. A look of relief crossed her face.

"There you are, Edward!" She breathed, setting the tray down on the table, "You should have come down to the kitchen for something to eat, at least!"

Edward smiled lightly at her. If there was one person in this house he actually _could_ trust, even a little, it was this woman. She had been defensive of him during the meeting, and since he arrived here had been nothing but kind to him.

"I am sorry, Frau Veasley," He said.

The woman smiled softly at him and his anger and frustration melted, if only a little.

"That's alright, dear," She said, and he swore he saw tears well in her eyes for a moment. The women leaned down and put a hand on his cheek before pressing her lips lightly to his forehead for a moment. As she pulled away with a smile and patted his cheek, he looked at her with wide eyes. She bustled out of the room without another word.

Edward reached up and rubbed the spot on his forehead, warmth swelling in him.

Damn it, he was such a kid.

* * *

><p>Hermione watched Edward curiously. He was working his way through one of the last English textbooks she had bought, occasionally glancing at the dictionary that sat open on the table. He was practically teaching himself now that she had taught him all of the basics, he'd only occasionally ask her a question about something he didn't quite understand. She'd taken to bringing a book to their lessons and the two read in silence for the most part. Today, however, she watched him over the top of her book, wondering how this kid, who was hardly older than herself, was a master alchemist.<p>

Alchemy was something she'd once been very curious about. She'd spent a good portion of the summer after her first year at Hogwarts studying it, and the publications of Nicolas Flamel. Muggles had used their knowledge of the composition of matter – quite flawed at the time – to try to turn lead into gold. They had failed, from what the Headmaster said, from lack of proper knowledge. Hermione blushed in embarrassment, she couldn't believe she'd been talked into listening in on the Order meeting. All the theories of the muggles' alchemy were used by Flamel, in combination with magic, to create the magic-based alchemy that wizarding society knew, and Professor Dumbledore practiced. Even the alchemy that used magic to bypass many of the theories and requirements of the muggle alchemy was difficult to understand and took a wizard as powerful as Dumbledore years to master, and he was no child when he was learning it.

Somehow this kid had learned and mastered the art. It was becoming blatantly obvious to Hermione in his almost lightning quick learning of English that Edward was practically a genius, but still. He had to have dedicated every day for years to learning alchemy to become a master at his age, even with his level of intelligence.

Of course, there had yet to be any proof that Edward _was_ an alchemist. He hadn't so much as doodled anything that even resembled a transmutation circle on his English notes. Hermione was afraid of outright asking, however. It could be that he was trying to hide his alchemy from them, and to ask him about it might get a negative response.

Edward looked up from the textbook, seeming to know he was being watched, and locked eyes with her. Hermione nearly squeaked as she quickly lowered her eyes to her own book.

"Vas dere someting you vanted to ask?" Edward asked, voice heavily accented, though understandable.

Hermione blushed and looked up over her book.

"Oh me? No, not really," She lied nervously, "It's just... uh... my eyes! My eyes are starting to hurt! I think I'll take a break from reading, go grab something to drink downstairs."

Edward looked at her curiously with narrowed eyes before he seemed to sort out everything that she realized she had said a bit to fast for him. He really didn't look like he believed her, but nodded. She mentally sighed in relief as his eyes moved from her, turning back to his book.

"De anser is 'yes'," He said with a small frown and Hermione's eyes widened in surprise.

"W-what?" She asked, "I wasn't-"

"You ver going'k to ask 'Are you alchemist?', ver you not?" He said casually, his eyes finding hers again.

"How did you-" Hermione began in shock.

"I haf my ohn vays to listen a..." He frowned for a second, then decided, "Conversation."

"You listened in on the Order meeting!" Hermione said with a gasp.

"You did, as vell," He said with a smirk and a knowing look.

Hermione blushed and looked away.

"So..." She began nervously, "You _are_ a muggle, too, then? A muggle alchemist?"

"I am alchemist," Edward said, grinning, "Very good one. I still do not understand dis vord, 'muggle'"

"Oh," Hermione said, nearly smacking herself. She couldn't believe she hadn't taught him that one yet, "It means someone who cannot do magic. Non-magic folk."

Edward frowned.

"Vhy vould you give dem such strange name?" Edward muttered, shaking his head, and looking back at his book, "I am, den, I guess. A... muggle, dat is. So, I haf ansered _your_ question, vill you anser von of mine? It is... _equal_."

"Sure," Hermione answered nervously.

"Vhat is..." He scrunched his brow, "_Veritaserum_?"

"Oh," Hermione said, biting her lip; the thought of questioning a person under veritaserum, especially one who had done nothing to them, seemed _wrong_ to her, "It's a potion. It makes you tell the truth."

Hermione looked over when she heard a dull thud and found Edward looking at her with wide, angry eyes, his jaw clenched tightly, the textbook having fallen from his hands.

"Vhat?" He hissed, "Dey haf no right!"

"I know, I know!" Hermione said in fear, "Calm down, Dumbledore's a good man, he just wants to know why you're here! He won't ask anything else!"

"And he is using dis _potion_ to... to... _*placate*_ that suspicious _*bastard*_!" Edward's eye twitched in anger and he looked like he _really_ wanted to hit something.

"Is something wrong?" Hermione whipped her head toward the door, seeing Sirius walking into the room with a frown.

"Oh! Vonderful!" Edward growled, "My _vatcher_! _Slimy sons of bitches, who the hell do they think they are? When I get my hands on that old bastard, I'll-_"

Edward continued to grumble in his own language while he picked up the book from the floor with a huff flipping it open and glaring at the page.

"Did I... miss something?" Sirius said, blinking, then realized something, eyes widening, "You listened in on the meeting!"

Edward looked up to glare at the man viciously, but offered no comment, and returned his eyes to the book. Hermione looked at her own book with seeming great interest. Sirius huffed.

"Well then I guess you know that I'll be around here for a while," He frowned, "Aren't you just learning English? How much of the meeting did you understand?"

"Enouf," Edward said without looking up, "I broke a very hard code in just fife days vonce. Almost like learning a new language. _ Compared_ to dat, dis language vas simple, Herr Black."

"Enough that we can ask you a few questions now?" Sirius said, almost nervously, like he didn't like the idea of using the veritaserum as well.

Edward turned narrowed his eyes on the man, anger clearly flashing in them.

"I _vas_ going to ask Hermione here for a diktionärie on magic vords," He said, "Ve vait until I haf learned some of dem, yes?"

Sirius and Hermione both slumped in relief. That would put off using the veritaserum on him for at least a little while. Hermione smiled slightly, looking back at Edward.

"I'm sure that will work out just fine," Hermione said, standing, "I'll go get you one right now."

She hurried out of the room and Sirius turned curious eyes on Edward.

"I have a few questions about you, personally, though," He said, when Edward looked at him sharply he put up both hands defensively, "No potion involved. You can answer what you want to answer, and keep to yourself what you want."

Edward eyed him suspiciously for a moment, before nodding, snapping the book in his lap shut and placing it on the table. He slouched back on the couch, throwing an arm over the back of it and crossing his right leg over his left, seeming to be entirely relaxed – yet Sirius could still see the suspicion glinting in those sharp eyes.

"When you first appeared – falling from the ceiling in my living room, I might add – you were wearing what looked to be a uniform of some kind," Sirius began, "Molly said that there was what looked like some badge of honor on the front and there were stripes and stars on the shoulder. Are you in the military?"

"Yes," Edward said, but did not elaborate. The hand that was not thrown over the back of the couch reached to finger at the silver chain that hung between one of the belt loops and his pocket.

"Wow, really?" Sirius said with some surprise, "And here I thought we were just grasping at straws to somehow identify who exactly you are. Okay... um, can I ask you another question?"

Edward nodded, "Ja, but I shall haf questions of mine ohn vhen you are done. Fair, yes?"

"Fair enough, I suppose," Sirius shrugged, "What rank are you in your country's military?"

Edward frowned, "*_Lieutenant-Colonel*_," He said, "I do not know the English vord. If there efen is von."

"Understood, I guess," Sirius said, with slight disappointment, "_Are _you a master alchemist?"

Hermione was just then walking back into the room with a large book in her arms. Edward waved his hand at her.

"I haf already ansered dis question to Hermione," He said, "Yes, I am an alchemist. Master? Maybe."

Hermione looked at him curiously and put down the large book on the table.

"Do you think you could..." She bit her lip, "Show us a little alchemy?"

Edward grinned at the idea and Hermione nearly sighed in relief that the idea hadn't been rejected entirely. He got up from the couch and knelt in front of the table, pulling a piece of chalk from his pocket. He quickly drew a simple transmutation circle and then looked up at them.

"Dis is a simple _*Transmutation*,_" He said, then put his hands on the edge of the circle. Bright blue light erupted and Sirius and Hermione looked on in fascination as the wood from the table curled into a wooden rose. The light faded and Edward took hold of it by the stem, holding it up for them to see. Hermione resisted the urge to applaud.

"That's _amazing_!" She said, incredulously, "That really is alchemy! _Muggle_ alchemy! You didn't use any magic at all!"

"Vhy vould I need magic, vhen I haf science?" He said with a crooked grin, holding the flower out to her.

Her face turned red and she reached out to take the flower. She turned it over in her hand, running her fingers over the delicate looking thing. Sirius watched Edward as he realized he just gave a girl a flower and turned red in the face, looking away and plopping back down on the couch assuming the same position as before, only with a little more of a slouch.

Hell, he really is a kid, Sirius thought.

"So, did you haf any otter questions?" Edward asked.

"Yeah," Sirius said, smiling softly, taking a seat in a chair nearby, "Do you have any family?"

"I haf a brotter," Edward said in a soft, almost reverent tone, "A younger brotter."

"Can I know his name?"

He continued like that for a little while, asking a few simple questions, learning a little about Edward as a kid, rather than an alchemist and military man. Sirius never asked about his arm or leg, and didn't question further whenever Edward's face seemed to darken. All in all it was very informative. He learned that his commanding officer in the military was practically his father, and the team his family.

He tried not to think about the fact that the kid was talking about a place that he never even heard of.

* * *

><p>White-hot anger had laced through him when Hermione told him what veritaserum was. They could ask him <em>anything<em> and he would be forced to answer truthfully. If they asked about his arm and leg...

No. There was no way in _hell_ he would let them do that.

Hermione's words did little to comfort him, and when Sirius came into the room it simply fanned the flames of his anger. When once he wanted to learn quickly to get the questioning over with as soon as possible, now he would do anything to put it off, possibly even get the _hell_ out of this house before they could.

When Sirius asked him to answer a few questions without the use of the damned 'potion' he grudgingly consented. He gave the impression of relaxation to mask his nerves. When Hermione returned and asked him to demonstrate his alchemy, he grinned at the prospect of showing off before he settled on showing them something simple.

Let's skip the part where he gave Hermione the flower, shall we?

When Sirius asked about Al, he realized something. They couldn't touch anyone he loved. They were in an entirely different _world._ It was remarkably _freeing_ to be able to chat amiably about himself and the people he knew without any fear of harm coming to them because of it. It was calming, too, in a way. Talking about them helped remind him that they were all waiting for him back home. He didn't say anything too specific, only that Mustang had watched over him since he joined the military, and about a few of the personality quirks that the man and his team had, laughing outright as he recounted how absolutely _terrified_ Breda was of Black Hayate.

Sirius' eyes seemed to soften with every word he spoke. Sympathy was always a good thing to have. The man didn't seem all that interested in 'keeping an eye on him', seeming to agree with Molly on the 'harmless child' thing. He wasn't particularly _fond_ of being called a child, but he was grateful for the woman nonetheless.

After a good amount of time had been passed talking, Edward glanced up at the clock to realize it was just past three o'clock in the afternoon and Molly had yet to be seen.

Come to think of it, the twins usually would have popped in by now to pester him, or Ronald would have come to try to coax Hermione away for a while. In fact he hadn't heard a single footstep outside of the library for _hours_.

"Shall ve go get someting to eat from de kitchen?" Edward asked, making Sirius and Hermione look at the clock curiously.

"Where does the time go..." Hermione said, standing with a confused look on her face, "I wonder why Mrs. Weasley hasn't brought anything up."

"Oh, she's probably just busy, having so many in the house," Sirius said, though didn't seem to believe it himself.

They made their way down to the kitchen and found where all the noise in the house had gone. Inside they were met with several worried faces, and Kingsley talking to the silent group.

"...His hearing is set in two days," Kingsley was finishing as they walked in.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked. All attention was then focused on the little group that had entered the kitchen.

Curious glances were sent at Edward and he crossed his arms, glaring at everyone who looked at him. A man in the corner of the room was scowling at him, glaring at him and the strange eye he possessed seemed to scan him suspiciously. Edward noticed the peg that was in place of his foot.

Either he couldn't afford auto-mail or there was no such thing in this world. He was leaning toward no such thing.

He realized that this was the growling man he had heard outside the library door the one day, he remembered the odd footsteps he heard as the man walked away. This was the one who pushed to question him under veritaserum.

Needless to say Edward gave him his most vicious glare.

"Oh, dear, it's terrible," Molly said emotionally, "Harry's been expelled! For underage magic! He's going to_ court_!"

"Harry's _WHAT?_" Sirius bellowed, "How did this happen?"

"There was a _dementor_ attack! In a muggle neighborhood!" Molly explained frantically, "It's absolutely mad! They're trying to expel him for performing a patronus!"

"That's insane!" Sirius yelled.

"Calm down, Sirius," Remus came forward, putting a hand on Sirius' arm, "Albus will take care of it, I'm sure everything will be fine, right?" He turned back to the doubtful faces.

"Potter was going to get himself expelled eventually with all his-"

"Severus!" Molly interrupted the man with long black hair that fell like a curtain around his sneering face.

The man turned away with an air that made Edward think that had he been younger, and had he said something more, it would have been something like 'I'm _just_ _saying_.' It was rather funny when he thought about it.

Sirius and Remus, however, were not as amused, glaring at the man, who merely raised an eyebrow in response, as if saying 'You know I'm right.'

Edward was suddenly grateful for his years of dealing with Mustang, being able to read such gestures.

"We have to do something," Hermione said, frantically.

"We _are_, girl," The suspicious man said from the corner, standing, "Dumbledore is countering the charges, and we're going to get Potter now."

Hermione looked relieved, seeming to trust the man's words.

"I'll-" Sirius began.

"No, Sirius," Remus interjected, "You'll stay _here_."

Sirius grimaced.

"I just can't believe _Harry Potter_ was expelled from Hogwarts," One of the Weasley twins – he'd given up telling them apart – said with a grimace.

Others nodded grimly in agreement – with the exception of 'Severus' who just scowled – and everyone filed out of the room, the suspicious man collecting a few of them and heading toward – what Ed thought was – the front door. Ron came and took Hermione's arm, leading her out, and Sirius walked away muttering something. Eventually, he and Molly were the only ones in the room and she was busily working at the stove, seeming to try to occupy herself with other things beside worry.

The left Ed alone to wonder 'What the hell is a Hogwarts, and who the hell is Harry Potter?'

* * *

><p>fillefillerfillerfillerfiller<p>

*looks up*

Oh don't mind me.


	5. Chapter 5

_*Amestrian*_

English

_Emphasis_

* * *

><p><strong>Oh, hey there. I have a Beta now! Thanks to the lovely Ochibi, this chapter is blissfully free of my ridiculous typos.<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>To Settle a Debt<strong>

**Chapter 5**

* * *

><p>Harry cautiously entered the building, the floor creaking beneath him and the long, narrow hall stretching out before him. At the end of the hall he saw Moody and the others go through an open door. Mrs. Weasley moved around a table where he saw Sirius and Professor Lupin sitting. Warmth spread through him and he quickened his steps, making his way to the end of the hall. They caught sight of him and instantly Mrs. Weasley was rushing out into the hall. Harry could see Sirius grinning and Remus smiling lightly at him before Mrs. Weasley shut the door behind her.<p>

"Oh, Harry!" She said, greeting him brightly.

"Mrs. Weasley," He greeted with a smile.

"Thank heavens you're alright!" She said hugging him tightly, before pulling away and looking at his face intently, "Bit peaky, but I'm afraid dinner will have to wait until after the meeting."

"Well I-"

"Nope, no time to explain. Upstairs with you, right now. First door on the left. Go on."

Mrs. Weasley smiled brightly and ushered him toward the stairs. With a weak smile, Harry slowly turned and started walking up the stairs. When he reached a small landing, with a room off to the side of it, he noticed a house elf, carrying a pail with a rag over the side of it, coming out of the room and glaring up at him. The creature looked old and decrepit, its ears drooping and face fixed with a scowl. He glared up at Harry, muttering something under his breath as he set the pail next to a portrait that hung on the wall of the landing, taking the rag and rubbing at the bottom of the frame that lay exposed under thick curtains.

"It's alright mistress. Don't worry, Kreacher is here," He rasped reverently, "That nasty Muggle won't ever hurt you again... Not while Kreacher's here."

Harry quickened his step as he continued to climb the stairs. Once he reached the top he opened the first door to his immediate left. He was immediately tackled.

"Harry!" He recognized Hermione's voice in his ear as she hugged him tight and he lightly returned the embrace.

She pulled away quickly, "Are you alright?" She asked worriedly, "We've heard them talking about the Dementor attack. You must tell us everything."

"Let the man breath Hermione," Ron said, walking up to them.

"And this hearing at the Ministry," Hermione breathed, "It's just outrageous! They simply _can't_ expel you. It's completely unfair."

Harry looked away and walked further into the room.

"Well, there's a lot of that going around at the moment," He said, looking around the room curiously, "So what is this place."

"It's headquarters," Ron said, shrugging.

"For the Order of the Phoenix," Hermione elaborated, "It's a secret society; founded by Dumbledore back when they first fought You-Know-Who."

"Couldn't have written about any of this in a letter, I suppose?" Harry said sourly.

Hermione and Ron both looked down guiltily.

"Gone all summer without a scrap of news," Harry continued angrily.

"I'm sorry, mate," Ron mumbled miserably, "We wanted to, really we did, only..."

"Only, what?" Harry asked.

"Only, Dumbledore made us swear not to tell you anything," Hermione said, biting her lip.

"Dumbledore said that?" Harry asked, hurt, his voice mounting with anger, "But why would he want to keep me in the dark? Maybe I could help. After all, I am the one who saw Voldemort return. I'm the one who fought him. I'm the one who saw Cedric Diggory get killed!"

Crack!

"Hello Harry!" It took all of his might to not jump in surprise as Fred and George popped into the room right behind him.

"Thought we heard your dulcet tones," George said.

"Don't button it up, mate, let it all out," Fred continued.

"Anyway if you've all been shouting," George went on.

"Do you want to hear something a little more interesting?" Fred finished with a grin.

"No!" Hermione protested, "Not again! We shouldn't eavesdrop."

"What do you mean, eavesdrop?" Harry asked, looking at Hermione who was biting her lip nervously.

"What's one more time?" Ron said, with a scowl, "Afraid your new best mate Edward wouldn't approve?"

"_Who?_" Harry asked, frustration gaining momentum as his questions continued to go unanswered

"Another time, mate," Fred said.

"If we wait much longer we won't hear anything good," George said.

"Maybe they'll even talk about Edward again, like the last meeting." Fred finished, with a reassuring pat on Harry's shoulder.

* * *

><p>"He's not a child, Molly," They heard Sirius say.<p>

"He's not an adult either, Sirius! He's not James!" Mrs. Weasley protested.

"He's not your son." Sirius hissed.

"Who else has he got?"

"He's got me."

"How touching," Snape sneered, "Perhaps Potter will grow up to become a felon just like his-"

"You stay out of this, Snivellus!" Sirius growled.

Harry looked at the others curiously.

"Snape's a part of the Order?" Harry asked.

A low screeching noise came from the extendable ear and they all looked down.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione hissed.

Meow.

"Crookshanks, no!" Hermione scolded as the cat batted at the ear, "Leave it alone!"

But the orange cat had grabbed the ear and begun trotting off already.

"Bad Crookshanks!"

"Hermione," A door creaked open, the one just across the hall from their own, and an accented voice spoke.

The group looked over in surprise to see a blond boy kneeling on the floor just inside the room, one hand on the door knob. He beckoned them inside and moved away from the door.

"Is that-?" Harry began.

"Edward," Hermione said, immediately following the boy into the room. The twins and Ginny followed after and Ron scowled before going as well, his feet dragging. Harry looked after them curiously.

How much had he missed?

He nervously walked into the room to find his friends and that 'Edward' kneeling before a... Muggle speaker?

"This is _his_ fight, let him fight it!"

Harry hurried to join them.

"You've decided to agree with me about Edward, yet you want to throw Harry into a war?"

"Entirely different circumstances, Molly. Harry wants to fight-"

"You _agree_ with her about that foreign _rat_?" He heard Moody growl. Harry looked up at Edward to find him frowning.

"Alastor!" Molly scolded, "Edward is a good boy."

"And how do we know that?" Snape interjected, displaying mistrust, but not giving a clear stance on the subject, "We hardly know anything about the boy."

"I spoke to him quite a bit today, actually, Snivellus," Sirius said, haughtily, "He _is_ a good kid. He's a kid like any other in this house. I think he might even just tell us what we want to know, without Veritaserum-"

"No! He must be questioned properly," Moody growled, "There's no other way to be sure! Dumbledore already made that decision."

"I know he did," Sirius said hotly, "And it still isn't right."

Harry looked at Edward again, studying him. Who _was_ this strange kid that they wanted questioned under _Veritaserum_? Where exactly had he _come_ from? He was no older than any of them, and he certainly wasn't a student at Hogwarts, he'd at least _recognize_ him if he was. What was he doing _here_? A victim of an attack by Voldemort?

Edward looked up and glared at him and Harry was stunned by how bright and _gold _his eyes were. He shook himself out of the strange trance and forced his eyes back to the speaker. He had _definitely_ never seen this kid before in his life.

"He's a good kid," Sirius continued, "A _smart_ kid. He's practically fluent in English already-"

"What?" Moody hissed, "Then why haven't we questioned him yet?"

"He wants to learn some magic terms before-"

"That's a load of shite if I've ever heard it!"

"No, Alastor!" Molly said, "This meeting is over! It's time for dinner! Arthur go get the children."

Fast as lightning Edward picked up a piece of chalk from the floor and drew a circle with strange symbols inside it. In a flash of light the speaker melted into the wall, bits of it also seeming to go up Edward's sleeve. Before Harry could even wonder what he'd done he stood and pulled Hermione to her feet, gently pushing her in the direction of the door.

"Go!" He hissed at them and they all scrambled to return to their room before Mr. Weasley came upstairs to get them. Harry vaguely heard light footsteps walking down the stairs. As soon as the door closed they all pressed their ears against it.

"Oh, Edward!" Mr. Weasley said, "I was just coming to get everyone, are you going to join us all for dinner."

"Ja, Herr Veasley, I d... _th_ink tonight I shall join you," They heard Edward's distinctly accented voice say.

Harry frowned and tried to place the accent. German?

"Wonderful!" Mr. Weasley said, "Just head down, then, the dinning room is just next to the kitchen; I'll collect everyone else."

"T-_ *Damn it, I give up* _tank you, Herr Veasley," Edward said and he heard him continue down the stairs, while Mr. Weasley continued up. They all hustled away from the door, making themselves appear nonchalant as the door opened.

"Dinner time!" He said cheerily, before exiting the room again.

Ginny hurried out of the room first, followed closely by Ron. Harry looked back into the room to see Hermione putting her hair in a messy bun, threading a... rose? through it to hold it in place. Fred and George left the room with a crack and they heard Mrs. Weasley yelp from downstairs.

"Wait up a minute, Hermione," Harry said as she went to leave the room, "Who _is _that?"

Hermione hesitated before answering.

"Well, the thing is, Harry," She said, biting her lip, "We don't really know. He showed up here a week and a half ago, out of thin air. He didn't know a word of English. I've been teaching him, so we could ask him how he got here."

"So they've just... let some strange kid stay in the Order Headquarters?" Harry questioned incredulously, "_That's _a brilliant idea."

"What were we supposed to do?" Hermione said defensively, "Throw him out on the street? He didn't know English Harry! He would have been completely lost."

"He seems to know English now," Harry said with a huff.

"And Dumbledore will want to talk to him soon, I'm sure," Hermione said, placatingly, "He's _harmless,_ Harry, I promise."

"If he's so bloody harmless, then why's he listening in on Order meetings?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Because they're talking about _him_," Hermione said, "_Really_, Harry-"

"Harry? Hermione?" They heard Mrs. Weasley call from downstairs.

"Coming, Mrs. Weasley!" Hermione called, and after one last long look at Harry, left the room.

Harry narrowed his eyes briefly before he followed after and came to the bottom of the stairs. He held back a scowl as he saw Snape leave the kitchen.

"Oh, Severus," Mrs. Weasley said and Harry nearly groaned, "Stay for dinner, won't you?"

"I'm afraid-"

"Please do, Herr Snape," Edward interrupted, "I hear dat you are a Potions Master. I am very curious about de art. I vould _love_ de chance to talk."

"See there?" Mrs. Weasley said with a triumphant smile, "And Edward is a _guest_ in this house. You can't very well deny a guest, can you?"

"...Very well," Snape consented, grudgingly. Harry hurried into the dining room, passing Ron who looked like he'd smelled something rotten.

Dinner was an easy affair. Tonks did her best to keep them entertained, telling strange stories, or morphing herself to _look_ strange. Edward and Snape conversed quietly at the end of the table and Hermione sat a short distance away, seeming to add to the conversation every once in a while. Moody stood in a corner, glaring at Edward, one hand in his pocket at all times, the other on his walking stick. Harry stuck by Ron's side, talking to him mostly, getting caught up a little on this Edward character.

"...So Hermione's been spending all bloody day in the library with 'em," Ron complained, stabbing his food, "They're _both_ bloody nutters. He's as smart as she is, if 'e isn't _smarter_. He's learned English in only a week and a half! _A week and a half!_ It's not _natural_, mate. It's downright _scary_. Fred and George haven't even tried to prank 'em _once_ either! I think 'e did something to 'em. I mean it, Harry! I don't trust the bloke any farther than I can throw 'em..."

Well, less talking, and more listening as Ron ranted.

"Well," Moody's gruff voice pervading the noise in the room, demanding silence, "Show him, he'll find out eventually."

Remus grimaced and pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet, passing it to Arthur who passed it to Harry. Harry looked at the headline and his stomach dropped.

**THE BOY WHO LIED**

He scanned it quickly, confusion mounting.

"You mean no one believes that he's back?" Harry asked incredulously, "Why? Cedric Diggory is _dead_! How do they think_ that_ happened?"

"The Minister is afraid," Arthur said, frowning, "So he's pretending nothing is wrong, and making sure no one says anything to he contrary. He's even got this ludicrous idea that Dumbledore wants to _overthrow_ him."

"Dumbledore?" Harry questioned, "Overthrow the Ministry? That's just ridiculous! He wouldn't-"

"_We_ know that," Sirius said, "But who is the public going to believe?"

"He's a damned coward," Moody growled moving out from the corner and standing just between Edward and Snape, "And we're in _mixed _company!" Moody looked down at Edward angrily and Ed returned the glare with equal force.

"Why didn't you tell me about any of this?" Harry stood and slapped the paper down on the table angrily.

"You didn't need to-"

"No!" Harry interrupted, "I _do_ need to know. Voldemort's back and he needs to be stopped. Let me fight!"

"You are a _child!_" Mrs. Weasley yelled.

"He's _right_, Molly," Sirius said, "We can't keep him in the dark, this is his war, too."

"You might as well just induct him into the Order then!"

"Yes!" Harry said, "Bring me into the Order – I want to help! I want to fight!"

"Harry Potter!" Mrs. Weasley yelled, "You are a _student _and a _child_ first. You must finish your schooling, at _least_. _Please._"

Her pleading tone was enough for guilt to settle heavily in Harry's stomach and he slid back into his chair, still simmering. Mrs. Weasley sniffed lightly.

The meal continued rather muted. The tone was considerably quieter, and Moody didn't move from his point just behind Snape and Edward's chairs – something that made Edward very tense. He continued to speak with Snape as though nothing was wrong, however. Harry was hardly listening to Ron anymore, glancing around the table mostly, though Ron didn't seem to notice.

Then he saw it. Moody pulled his hand out of his pocket, holding a small vial. There was so little liquid in it that Harry could hardly see it. It was clear and-

_Veritaserum._

It was too late, anyhow. All in one motion, Moody grabbed Edward by the neck, shoving the vial in his mouth and forcing its contents down his throat.

A lot of things happened then. Mrs. Weasley shouted, nearly crying. Snape flew from his chair, drawing his wand and pointing it at Moody. Moody flicked his wand at the door, shutting it with an audible click. Edward reached up with his right hand to take hold of the hand grasping his neck. Alastor quickly removed it, before Edward was able to grab and crush it in his metal hand. He then knocked his chair out of the way and threw a kick at Moody's chest with his left foot, sending him stumbling back.

What happened next made everyone freeze. Edward reached under the tan cloak with his left hand, grabbing hold of something at his side and drew it out.

Everyone in the room knew _what_ it was. But there were only three people – Harry, Hermione, and Snape – that _really_ knew and had the same thought just then.

_BLOODYHELLTHAT'SAGUN._

"What are you thinking, Moody!" Snape hissed, eyes not leaving the firearm in Edward's hand.

Edward's eyes were perhaps one of the most frightening things Harry had ever seen, the burning hatred in them was more intense than anything he'd ever seen. Anger rolled off of him in tangible waves as he glared at the man doubled over in front of him, the gun pointed at Moody's head.

"I think you broke some ribs," Moody looked up with a scowl.

"Alastor, leave!" Mrs. Weasley shouted, "Edward, calm down! Please!"

"Not with a chance like this!" Moody said, holding his chest with one hand and pulling himself up on his walking stick with the other, "You don't have the guts to shoot me, boy, so why don't we do a little test? Make sure the potion took."

"Moody, how do you even know the potion was made right?" Snape practically growled, "You could have just poisoned him!"

Edward's eyes widened in even greater anger, if that was possible, and he cocked the gun, teeth clenched tightly. Harry stood, absolutely frozen, like everyone else in the room. He knew, with _every_ sense in his body that what was happening in front of them was horribly, _horribly_ wrong. But none made a move. It was _Moody._ It was someone they _trusted. _And who was Edward in this equation? His eyes found Hermione, who stood there in shock, almost petrified it seemed, as behind her eyes he knew that mind worked in terrible confusion.

"It got it from _your_ stores, Severus," Moody snapped, "Now... our test..."

"Moody!"

"How'd you lose that arm, boy?"

Harry watched in shock as Edward's hand started to shake. With wide eyes, Edward held his jaw shut with all his might. His mouth wrenched open slightly and he slapped his right hand to cover it, holding it closed.

"Edward!" Hermione shrieked with wide eyes, though still rooted to the spot, "Edward, don't!"

Edward gripped his mouth tighter, and seemed to try to focus on the gun. He pulled back the hammer and then pulled the trigger – causing many gasps – and nothing happened. He slowly – if shakily – lowered the hammer and released the trigger with a 'click'. He lowered the gun slightly and clenched his right hand even tighter as he fought the potion's effects.

A sickening crack broke the silence.

The gun slipped from his hand, clattering to the ground. His right arm dropped from his mouth and he fell to his knees.

Blood spilled from his mouth.

* * *

><p>"You <em>broke<em> your own _jaw?_"

The woman, Poppy, stared at him incredulously, and he looked away.

It wasn't like he had much of any other choice. At least he was able to de-cock the gun before he dropped it. They should be _grateful_ he did. If he hadn't and it had hit the ground, one of them might have a bullet in them.

And while he fought to keep them from getting hurt, they all _hesitated_. They didn't want to attack one of their own, so leave the kid they don't know to suffer. Edward knew well enough that any of them could have whipped a spell at the despicable man, and _stopped _him. Not even Molly or Hermione moved an inch to do so, he thought with a twinge of pain.

But then, he had hesitated, too, hadn't he? He could have shot him. In the arm would have done it just fine. But there was just _something_ about firing that gun that made him feel _wrong_. He was a coward, plain and simple.

Severus had been the first to snap out of their shock, shooting a spell at Moody that seemed to knock him unconscious. He was the first to his side, pulling him up off the ground. Molly was the second to come to, tears running down her face, and she rushed to him, helping him up as well. They dragged him to the fireplace, blood still pouring down his chin, and he blacked out after that.

When he woke – soon after, he thought - it was to a familiar sight.

A hospital. Molly and Severus stood on one side of the bed, and a woman who introduced herself as Poppy Pomfrey on the other.

Edward glanced at the table next to the bed as Poppy began to wave her wand over him. His gun sat on the table and he was astounded that they had brought it with them. Next to it was his pocket watch, and he realized, with a blush, that he was seemed to be wearing only his boxers under the sheets, and his chest bare. Hermione sat on the next bed over, looking at him with worry, and a faint blush, biting her lip. Edward's bloodied shirt and cloak were draped over the bed just next to her.

With a crack Edward's eyes widened as he felt a sharp pain. He reached up in surprise with his left hand rubbing and experimentally moving his jaw. He looked up in shock at the woman who scanned him with a satisfied look.

"That ought to do it," She said.

Edward continued to rub his jaw, feeling no pain, after the initial resetting of the bone. It was absolutely incredible.

"Tank you, Frau Pomfrey," He said, stiffly, averting his eyes.

"What possessed you to..." Poppy began, "Never-mind."

She turned and walked away from his bed toward a door, opening it and walking through, shutting it behind her.

"Are you alright, dear?" Molly said through muffled sniffles, "Severus gave you a potion to counter the Veritaserum while you were out, it's alright to talk now."

Edward didn't respond, looking down at the blank white sheets, simmering silently.

"Oh, that man!" Molly exclaimed, "He had no right! How could he do such a thing?"

"It was absolutely monstrous of him!" Hermione said hotly, her eyes brimming with tears.

"He will be dealt with most harshly, I assure you," a kindly voice said.

Edward turned to see the elderly man he had seen when he first woke in this world walking toward them. This was also the man who led the first meeting of the 'Order' he had listened in on. For the record, Edward was entirely confused about the whole thing. It seemed to be a big secret, and they were all fighting someone called Voldemort, and Potter wanted in. Ed wondered which side of this fight he had stumbled onto.

"For now I believe it is best that Mr. Elric stay here, perhaps for the remainder of the summer," The old man, Dumbledore, Edward believed his name was, said.

"But-"

"It is for the best, Molly," Dumbledore said, approaching the bed, "Please have his things sent over, use the Floo in Poppy's office. Thank you for your help, Severus."

Severus nodded and swept out of the room, robes billowing behind him. Molly leaned down and kissed his forehead, then wiped her eyes.

"I'll visit soon, dear," Molly turned and walked back into another room, where Poppy had just gone.

Edward, feeling suddenly self-conscious being left alone with just the elderly man and Hermione, who had found her way to his bedside. Alone with Hermione reading a book? Sure. Alone with Hermione and a strange old man that wanted to make some unknown use of him and his alchemy while he laid in a hospital bed? A little more nerve-wracking.

"Hello, Mr. Elric; my name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," Dumbledore said with a light twinkle in his eye.

"Welcome to Hogwarts."

* * *

><p>AN: Oh, dear.


	6. Chapter 6

**To Settle a Debt**

**Chapter 6**

* * *

><p>Edward was just about ready to transmute a hole in the side of the hospital and run like hell, getting away from these crazy bastards. 'Welcome to Hogwarts', like his buddy hadn't just forced a potion down his throat, leaving Edward with little other options than crushing his own jaw to stop himself admitting to human transmutation. These people at least knew <em>what<em> alchemy was. He could have been _executed_ or something had that bit of information come out.

Edward seethed as he thought about how everyone just _stood_ there, doing _nothing_ to help him until he was bleeding on the floor.

The overly clean and sharp smells of the hospital were making him sick. He _hated _hospitals. Hospitals meant wasted time, and they meant blood, and they meant death, and more recently they meant seeing _Mustang, _of all people sitting in one of those overly white beds, not even looking directly at him because he was _blind_. But here he was, practically cornered here by this old man who had the _nerve _to _smile _at him.

Yet he could do nothing. He couldn't punch the guy in his stupid face, and he couldn't transmute a hole in the wall and run for it.

Because he couldn't move his auto-mail.

They laid there like dead weight, and the _anger _and _frustration_ of the day mounted to greater extremes. He grit his teeth angrily, and spoke with a growl.

"Lissen, _old man,_" Edward said, and Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, Hermione shifting nervously from his left, "I'm done vith you people. My patience? It is a *_damned miracle* _it has lasted _dis_ long. I needed to learn English. Now I haf, and you haf notting I need. So you vill tell me vhat you haf done to my _*auto-mail*_ and you vill let me leafe this place, before you regret efer helping me!"

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed in displeasure and Ed felt a pressure on his left arm. He snapped his eyes to to left to see Hermione placing a comforting hand on his arm with a sad expression. He ripped his arm from her gentle grip with a growl.

Guilt settled in his stomach as tears welled in her eyes and she backed away under his glare.

"Mr Elric," Dumbledore said sternly, turning back to face him, "Alastor was out of line. He will be dealt with, but there is no reason to take your anger out on Miss Granger."

Hermione bit her lip.

"No," She said, "He's right to be mad. I could have done something, any of us could have. I'm sorry."

She turned on her heel with a sniffle, walking swiftly to the door to Poppy's office, shutting it gently behind her.

"Now, _vhat haf you done to my *auto-mail*,_" Edward demanded, ignoring the pangs of guilt at letting Hermione just go.

Dumbledore frowned and tapped his metal arm lightly.

"I assume you mean this?" Dumbledore questioned.

"Yes!" Edward said impatiently, "Do not play stupid vith _me_!"

"Mr. Elric," Dumbledore said soothingly, "You're going to need to calm down. I know you are angry, understandably so, but we will get nowhere if you continue to accuse me of something I have not done."

Edward snapped his mouth shut with a glare.

"Fine," Edward said through his gritted teeth.

"Molly said that it is Muggle machinery," The old wizard said, "The wards that surround Hogwarts interfere with electricity, but not gears, pulleys and things that work without, like a clock. It should be fine."

"If it vere _just _gears and pulleys it vouldn't move _ever,_" Edward said, "There are life vires, connecting my nerves to _electrical _motors and – _gah_! _I _hardly understand it, but it needs to be able to run a current!"

"I see," Dumbledore said, lifting his eyebrows in surprise, "A prosthetic leg I had understood, but I'd been told that you have a surprising amount of movement in the arm. You say you have _live wires_ connected to your nerves? How fascinating. I keep rather up-to-date in the Muggle world and I have never heard of such a thing. A moment, please."

Dumbledore flicked his wand at the auto-mail arm and a thin film of pink light covered it for a second before disappearing.

Edward's eyes widened and he bit back a yell of pain, only groaning instead, his left arm flying to grip at the shoulder of the auto-mail. He curled in on himself slightly, swearing colorfully in Amestrian as the arm regained flow of electricity and it felt as if it had just been reconnected after maintenance.

"Merlin, are you alright?" Dumbledore said in shock.

"_Life vires _just connected to my _nerves_," Edward growled, "_How_ did you tink it vas not going'k to hurt! Gif a little varning!"

"I am very, sorry, Mr. Elric," Dumbledore said truthfully, "I hadn't thought. Does it work now?"

Edward experimentally moved the fingers of the auto-mail, then clenched them in a fist, bending the arm at the elbow, and rubbing at the sore flesh where skin met metal with his left hand.

"Ja," He said, "De leg now."

At least he got a countdown that time.

"I've put a shield around them, it should block any magic that would interfere," Dumbledore said as Edward swung his legs over the side of the bed, moving the leg around a bit, "Perhaps now we may have a civil conversation?"

Edward looked up at the old man with a contemplative expression. He mentally sighed. Given a moment to think, he realized that he was far too harsh with Hermione. Given another moment he realized 'Aw, shit I made her cry, didn't I?' Guilt settled in his stomach, now that anger had time to dissipate. He wasn't even acting like himself, was he? Sure he had a tendency toward anger, but something about this whole damn world was getting to him.

Maybe he just missed Al.

Edward studied the old man before him curiously. He was their leader, it seemed, and he had just restored the use of his auto-mail. It was one overly paranoid man that had put him in this position, and one overly paranoid man who should suffer for it. Not all of them. They had been shocked. They didn't want to attack their own.

"Fine," He said finally, "Ve vill talk."

* * *

><p>"There are a few things," Dumbledore said as they sat in a curiously decorated office, "That need to be cleared up."<p>

After Edward had been provided with a change of clothes, the old man had led him out of what he had called the 'Hospital Wing'. As they navigated the winding halls, Dumbledore told him that this was a school, of which he was the Headmaster, and the kids he had met at the house were students of.

"Mr. Elric," The old man said, standing, "For this conversation to go anywhere we must speak on equal ground. Equivalent Exchange; this is the principle of alchemy, yes? I will give you my trust, if you give me yours. We must speak only the truth here, and assume nothing. Any questions you have will be answered, if you do the same in return."

Edward thought for a moment. Perhaps it was time to move forward. If this man believed him, he could possibly help. It was a long shot, but this world was strange. A _gargoyle_ spoke and moved, to reveal the entrance to the office he was now in. If there were people who would believe in the prospect of other worlds, they were wizards.

"Fine," Edward consented, "But, you must agree to belief the trut dat I tell."

"There is little in this world that I wouldn't believe, Mr. Elric," The Headmaster said with a light twinkle in his eye, "Shall we begin then? Where are you from, young man."

Well, this was it, Edward thought with a grimace; all or nothing.

"I am from a country called Amestris," Edward said, then continued with a dry smile, "You say dat dere is little in dis vorld that you would not believe. Vhat about otter vorlds?"

"I... would not be entirely surprised," Dumbledore said, sagely, "There are many things that we have yet to understand as human beings. So you are saying that you are not of this world?"

"Dat's right," Edward confirmed.

"Curious, quite curious. What is it, then," Dumbledore began, eyes twinkling with curiosity, "That brings you to our world?"

"I made a deal vith the devil," Edward said with a wry grin.

"Surely, it was nothing so ominous," Dumbledore said with an amused smile.

"Oh, trust me," Edward said quietly, "Dis guy's as close to de devil as dey come."

"I am curious, who is it you speak of?" Dumbledore asked.

"'Perhaps Trut,'" Edward began, "'Or perhaps de universe, or perhaps _God_, or perhaps all, or perhaps one, or perhaps I am you.' Dis is as he calls himself. He goferns de art of alchemy, and enforces de law of Equivalent Exchange. He vatches ofer de vorlds and he punishes deir foolish people."

Dumbledore's eyebrows raised.

"How-"

"Except yours," Edward said.

"What do you mean by that?" Dumbledore asked, brow furrowed.

"No von in your vorld uses alchemy," He said, "He has no hold on your vorld or dis power, magic. Yet, he vatches it all de same. He says de people of dis vorld haf led demselves to ruin enouf that he had not needed to interfere any otter vay before-"

"What deal did you make with this being?" Dumbledore interrupted suspiciously.

"Vhat I got from it is not important," Edward said with a grimace, "Vhat _is _important is dat vhere before he vas content to vatch you destroy yourselfes now dere is a tret – _th_reat. A man is trying to achief God and I haf been sent here to destroy him."

"...What is this man's name," Dumbledore asked quietly.

Edward looked at the old man curiously. His tone had become strange and Edward's eyes widened as he realized that Dumbledore knew who he was talking about. The piercing look that Dumbledore fixed him with was almost hopeful.

"Tom Riddle."

* * *

><p>The next day in Grimmauld Place was tense. When Hermione had come back through the Floo, eyes brimming with tears, Moody was just coming to. She flung a stinging hex at him and swept out of the room without another word. He was nowhere to be found this morning as they all sat silently around the table, the only noise being the clang of silverware and plates.<p>

"It's not very surprising," Tonks said as she poked at her food, breaking the silence, "I mean he attacked a _birthday present _once because he thought it was a cleverly disguised _basilisk_ that was going to kill him..."

Ron dared let out a snort of laughter and Mrs. Weasley and Hermione glared at him viciously.

"Oh c'mon, 'Mione," Ron said placatingly, "Dumbledore will clear it all up. I'm sure they're having tea and lemon drops right now chatting away like old friends."

* * *

><p>"Are you <em>kidding <em>me? No vay in _*hell*,_ old man!"

"I think it's a wonderful idea Mr. Elric..."

"I am here to destroy _Tom Riddle! _Say it vith me! _TOM. RIDDLE._"

"And this would help greatly-"

"_IT IS A STUPID IDEA AND IT SHOULD BURN!_"

"There's no reason so be so crass, Mr. Elric."

"Your _face_ is crass!"

* * *

><p>"I don't think so, Ron," Harry said, "He looked pretty... well..."<p>

"Bloody pissed?" Sirius offered.

"Sirius!"

"He pulled his _gun _on Moody," George said.

"I think it's safe to say that he was a little more than bloody pissed," Fred added.

"_Fred!_"

"Well he pulled it on us, too, didn't he?"

"You're right about that, brother of mine."

"I don't think he actually _meant_ it, though, you know?"

"I do know. Didn't really look like he was gonna shoot us."

"Now Moody, though. I thought he was gonna shoot _him_."

"Stop!" Remus called, and the twins looked around to see a sea of shocked faces.

"I don't think we should have said that."

"Why George, I believe you're right."

"_When did this happen?_" Molly shrieked, wide-eyed.

"The first night he was here," Fred recounted, "We sneaked into his room at night."

"Bloody light sleeper, he is," George added, "And he slept with the thing under his pillow."

"Soon as we were close he bolted right up, pointing the thing at us," Fred finished, "We ran like the bloody hounds of hell were at our heels."

Mrs. Weasley looked like she was about to faint.

"What were you boys thinking?" She yelled, "And _why _didn't you tell me this _before?_"

"Bloke pulls a gun on us and you ask us what _we _were thinking?"

"She doesn't care about _us,_ George. It's so sad."

"Terribly sad."

Mrs. Weasley's face reddened with anger. Fred and George looked at each other with a grin.

"Wish we could stay, really, mum."

"Places to go, things to do, however..."

Crack!

"Well," Sirius said, "That was certainly interesting."

"Fred! George!" Mrs. Weasley yelled, rushing to the door, "I _know _you're still in this house!"

She began to stomp out of the room, before turning back with a huff.

"Before I forget," She said, "Harry, Ron, Hermione? Do you think you could help take care of some Doxies in the drawing room? When I get my hands on Fred and George I'll send them down as well."

With that Mrs. Weasley left the room, calling for the twins angrily.

At least the tension was successfully diffused.

* * *

><p>"Now, Mr. Elric," Dumbledore said, "You should at least consider the idea."<p>

"No, old man," Edward said quietly, "If a man melted his arm off brewing a potion, vould you hire him to teach your potions class?"

"Well... I suppose it depends," The Headmaster said, matter-of-fact.

"On vhat?" Edward asked.

"Did he learn from his mistake?" Dumbledore said sagely, "Was he better for it? Will he ever be so foolish again?"

"No," Edward said, looking away, "He vill nefer be so foolish again."

"Will he do all in his power to make sure no one makes the same mistake as he?" Dumbledore asked.

"Eferyting," Edward breathed, closing his eyes, "Anyting to spare dem de same pain."

"Then I would hire that man above anyone else."

The previous night, after Edward had told Dumbledore of his task, the man told him about 'Voldemort', or rather, Tom Riddle. It seemed that Truth was not so haphazard with where he had been dropped. The house he had spent the last two and a half weeks in was none other than the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix; an organization dedicated to the demise of The Dark Lord Voldemort.

Edward had _really_ tried to not laugh at the name.

Unfortunately the old man was adamant that Harry Potter was the only one who could successfully take down Tom Riddle, all because of a prophesy made by a batty old nut.

It's no _wonder_ Dumbledore believed him about being from another world.

When the old man had shown him to an old teacher's quarters for him to spend the night, walking through the dusty classroom to get to them, he had thought nothing of it. When he looked through a few books on the shelves in the room, old tomes about their alchemy and what was called Muggle alchemy, he became suspicious, but was really too tired to think much on it.

This morning, however, when Dumbledore arrived with tea and scones, the truth came out. The old man wanted him to teach alchemy at his school. The idea was absolutely ridiculous, and he protested almost violently. The thought of teaching a bunch of magic-spoilt little brats didn't exactly appeal to him. He wasn't here to _teach,_ he was here to_ kick ass _and _go home_. Dumbledore argued that Harry knowing alchemy would help, but what was that kid going to learn in ten months, in a class with other students? Dumbledore also insisted that the other students should learn as well, to better be able to protect themselves, so simply teaching the boy wasn't an option.

When he and his brother had gone to learn from Teacher they had already known the basics, and the tests she put them through were rigorous.

Then again, this man had all the information he needed about Tom Riddle and his followers. The old man also tempted him with unrestricted access to their library which he said was the most extensive collection of books in Wizarding England.

"Fine," Edward consented, grudgingly, "Howefer I haf conditions."

Dumbledore smiled in triumph and Edward itched to wipe that stupid expression off his face.

"Wonderful," He said, "I am sure I can accommodate any of your conditions."

"Number von:" Edward said, holding up one finger, "I vish to become a member of your Order. I vish to be kept up to date on efery mofe _V_oldemort makes."

Dumbledore hesitated, but nodded in understanding.

"Yes," He said, "I believe that is wise. You understand that there are certain circumstances involved in inducting you to the Order? I must have your oath, an Unbreakable Vow. I'm sorry, that is, you must make a magically bound vow to do as the Order requires and take no action against us."

Edward frowned, and then waved his hand.

"Fine," He said, continuing, "Number two: I may remove any student from my class, no questions asked. If I do not belief dey can learn properly, I vill not teach dem. Alchemy is dangerous."

"Of course, I understand perfectly," Dumbledore said, nodding in agreement.

"Number tree," Edward said, face splitting into a grin, "I vill need a deserted island for efery group of two students."

* * *

><p>Hours later, Edward pouted as the charmed quill wrote what he dictated to it. He was denied his deserted islands. He was allowed to take the kids to the Forbidden Forest for <em>supervised<em> study, but only during class time. He wasn't even allowed to get them lost out there for a _weekend_.

Dumbledore had even looked rather appalled when he suggested it.

How the hell else do you teach kids anything?

Reading textbooks, he had recalled from the fuzzy days of his youth. He didn't think Dumbledore would take to kindly to him attacking the kids for his 'train the body to train the mind' thing either. Dumbledore gave him this charmed quill then, and wished him luck making something for his students before fleeing, saying he had important matters to attend to.

Edward mentally snorted. So he'd make a couple months' worth of study material on the basics of alchemy. How long could it possibly take to get rid of one evil wizard that calls himself the _Dark Lord_.

* * *

><p>One year later Edward will find himself frustratingly dictating the second year textbook to the well-used and beaten quill.<p>

* * *

><p>Not <em>that <em>long, surely.

When Dumbledore explained to him that the kids would know next to nothing about science, he had nearly banged his head on the table in frustration. However, he now happily filled several pages with the study of matter, the chemical make-up of the elements, and a lovely drawing of the Periodic Table. Maybe he wouldn't even _get _to teaching them actual alchemy. Edward finished filling enough pages to last a good month and took a drink of water, his throat sore from talking for so long.

"Dat should do it for now," He said with a satisfied grin.

_That should do it for now._

Edward frowned, glaring at the quill that continued to write.

"Stop dat."

_Stop that._

Edward growled.

_Grrr!_

"Goddamni- _Don't write dat!_"

* * *

><p>AN: Those poor kids...


	7. Chapter 7

**To Settle a Debt**

**Chapter 7**

* * *

><p>"*<em>Shit<em>,*" Edward hissed as he pressed a hand to his bleeding leg. One curse. He's hit by _one_ curse all night and it's a _slicing_ hex. He sighed; he supposed it could have been worse, and he was out of practice. He spent too many days content in Risembool. The Death Eaters had fled after he had impaled one of their arms with a spike of stone from the ground, disappearing with chorus of cracks, leaving the bloody spike piercing thin air. Tonks was standing a ways away, and her eyes fell on him. She began walking toward him with a slight hop in her step, content to let the others put out the small fire that remained burning in what remained of the muggle home. Sitting with his back against a tree, Edward's eyes not leaving Tonks as she made her way over to him, and ripping some cloth from his sleeve, wrapping it around the wound tightly.

No one died today; Ed was thankful for that.

In the past few days of working with the Order (though he had yet to see Moody, much to his dismay; he had _words_ for that man) he had realized exactly what kind of trouble this world was in. It was different when Dumbledore was explaining it to him. It wasn't there, it wasn't in front of him; not like it was now. People were dying, and there were only so many that could be saved.

Tonks knelt down before him with a gentle smile.

"How ya holdin' up, Edward?" She asked, helping him tie the knot on the makeshift bandage.

"Vell enouf," He said shortly, "It is noting I haf not seen before, but-"

"But nothing you expected to see again," She said, knowingly, "It's always like that. You think it's over, then all of a sudden... it's back."

Edward said nothing, looking at and appreciating the woman in front of him for what she was; a warrior, a soldier, a protector.

"Come on," She said, holding a hand out, "Let's head back."

"Ja."

Quick, heavy footfalls echoed in the empty hall, as Edward rushed to the Great Hall.

"_*Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit...*" _He hissed as he skidded around a corner.

"_Try not to be late, Mr. Elric, we're hosting a particular guest this year, as you know, and I'd hate for you to get on her bad side so soon."_

"_*Stupid old man.*" _Edward growled as he sharply turned another corned and nearly sighed in relief at the sight of the staff entrance about halfway down the hall. The relief quickly dissipated as he heard the muffled voices through the door, too many for him to possibly be on time. He pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at it (What do you know, Mustang was right, it really _is_ used to tell time, Edward thought, rolling his eyes and recalling that particular comment when he turned in his report... well, _really_ late.) swearing when he saw that he was about twenty minutes late.

It _really_ wasn't his fault he fell asleep in the library again. It was too dark in there, with just candles, it made him sleepy...

Taking a deep breath and bracing himself for the noise of the Great Hall filled with students – and Professor's that were likely mad at him for being late – he opened the door in customary Edward Elric fashion.

With a loud bang as it slammed against the wall next to it.

All eyes were on him, silence falling.

This was good; this he could deal with.

"Vhat are you looking'k at?" He said, crossing his arms and glaring out at the students.

Curious whispers erupted throughout the hall and Edward scanned the crowd. His eyes found Hermione who sat beside Harry and Ron, staring at him in shock. He hadn't seen her in about a week, since... the incident. Her expression changed from shock to a small, sad smile and a knot that Edward hadn't realized had been in his stomach since the last time he saw her untied and he felt he could breath easier. With a satisfied smile, his gaze landed upon the disappointed – yet slightly amused – form of the Headmaster.

"Students, if I may have your attention once more," Dumbledore said, rising from his seat. Silence settled in the hall once more as attention was fixed on their Headmaster. He gestured to Edward, who walked across the raised dais where the teachers all sat to just next to a podium.

"Allow me to introduce your Alchemy Professor, Professor Edward Elric," The old wizard said, seeming to relish in the dropping jaws of the students as they observed the new Professor who couldn't possibly be old enough to teach, "Professor, would you like to say a few words."

Edward grimaced.

"Ja, first rule, _never_ call me _Professor_ again. It's veird," Edward said, then addressed the students, who watched him warily, "Like he said, my name is Eduard Elric, and I vill be teaching some of you alchemy. I say some of you, because not all of you vill be able to do it, and if I tink it's a vaste of time to teach you, you vill be removed from my class, ja? Ja. Dat's it."

"...Thank you, Mr. Elric," Dumbledore said with a wry look, politely applauding. Some students obediently clapped as well, though it was sparse and awkward.

Edward spun on his heel and walked around the table, and noticed, in horrible dismay, that the only seat left was next to that pink monstrosity. He looked to the seat on her right, locking eyes with Snape, sharing his pain. The bastard had the gall to smirk briefly at him. 'If I suffer, you suffer.'

He'd formed a tentative... he wouldn't call it friendship, perhaps civil acquaintanceship with the man. With great dread, he took the seat next to Umbridge, and she tilted her head toward him with a sickeningly sweet smile.

"Well, how... interesting," She said, voice like poisoned honey, "No one has attempted to teach Alchemy in decades. I was led to believe it was a _dead... _art."

Edward held back the growl that threatened to bubble forth.

"I assure you, _Professor_," He said through grit teeth, "Alchemy is far from dead-"

"And _really_," She continued, eying him with judging eyes, "Someone so _young_. How old _are_ you, _Mr._ Elric? Though it does seem to be a _pattern _at this school. Hiring those so clearly... under qualified."

Edward frowned. He _really_ didn't like this woman.

"I'm sixteen," He said, and it looked like she wasn't expecting that, "And I am de only Alchemy _Master_ in all of _Europe_."

"_Sixteen_," The creature shrieked, standing and turning on Dumbledore, "Headmaster, this is _highly _inappropriate. You are having a child teach a class."

"I assure you, and the Ministry of Magic, that Edward Elric is quite capable of the position," Dumbledore placated smoothly, "He is a genius, Professor, an alchemical prodigy. He is more than up to the task. It would have been an insult to him to not offer the position to him."

Umbridge twitched, a small break in her rather creepy facade.

"The Minister will know of this," She said, threat thinly veiled beneath a sweet tone.

She sat then, and ignored him for the remainder of the evening. A relief, truly.

Hermione was shocked, to say the least. They had heard nothing of Edward since he took up residence at Hogwarts. Even Molly denied them news, only shaking her head briskly with a sad look in her eye when she asked. Fred and George couldn't get their hands on any more extendable ears, so without Edward there they could no longer listen in on the Order meetings, making information of any kind scarce. When they had made their way to Hogwarts, Hermione was giddy with the hope of maybe seeing Edward there.

This, however, was entirely unexpected.

Exciting, nonetheless.

Alchemy. _Muggle Alchemy._ The mere thought of it was incredible, and she was going to _learn_ it. Ever since she had first seen Edward perform alchemy the gears had been turning in her head, itching to discover all the little secrets of alchemy, everything there was to know. The transmuted flower was threaded through her hair, as it had been since he had left.

Then she slowly realized that Edward had become quite untouchable. He was a _professor_, it wasn't like she could simply chat with him whenever she wanted. And she could imagine that whatever small friendship they had had before might have been irrevocably damaged by her betrayal – it could be nothing less than just that – on that day in Grimmauld place.

Dinner finished in a blur and soon enough she was leaving the Great Hall with Harry and Ron, leading the first years, with one last glance at the high table; Edward rising with clear frustration and hurriedly leaving through the staff door. His image disappeared behind the thick wood door and she almost sighed. Ron elbowed her in the side lightly and she looked up at him. Surprised, she noticed that Harry was nowhere to be seen.

"Can you believe it?" He muttered to her, "Bloke's _teaching_ now. We don't get a word for a week, and now he's our bloody professor."

"It is strange that no one told us," Hermione said, frowning, "Not even your Mum."

"Bloody stupid how little they tell us," Ron huffed, "We're a part of this too."

"I'm sure there's a good reason for not telling us," Hermione said, then looked down guiltily, "Not like we deserve to know what he was up to-"

"Oh, not _this_ again," Ron groaned, "Stop moaning about that, 'Mione. It's getting old. What were we supposed to do, hex _Moody?_"

"Yes!" Hermione said vehemently, "We should have! We _could _have..."

Ron growled.

"Fine!" He said angrily, "If he's so damned _important_ why don't you go talk to him. You can go back to being best _bloody _mates."

Ron stomped angrily ahead of her, leaving her to wonder what, exactly, she'd done to offend.

As the day went on Harry became more and more frustrated. _First_ Snape vanishes his potion leaving him no marks for the entire first lesson of the year. _Then_ they had to sit through Divination while the crazy old bat went on about the all seeing eye and whatnot. And _then – _Merlin _then_ – they had Defense Against the Dark Arts. He wondered how long he could endure the woman's sickly sweet attitude before he really lost it. After McGonagall let him go with her warning of the interference of the Ministry in Hogwarts, he angrily stalked to his last class of the day; Alchemy.

Ron complained endlessly during breakfast about having an extra class this year and vowed to get kicked out by the end of the week. Hermione was entirely pleased with having the new class on the first day, though panicking over not having a textbook of any kind.

He groaned aloud when he walked into the class to find that they were sharing the class with Slytherins. He spotted Hermione and Ron and moved to sit next to them, only to find that the desks were two person, and on each desk there were two little bound notebooks, and the only empty seat was next to Neville. Ron shrugged apologetically at him, while Hermione had already begun reading the notebook. With a sigh he dropped into the chair next to Neville and smiled nervously at him.

"Hey, Harry," He greeted.

"Hey, Neville..." Harry said, attempting a smile.

Neville was nervously running his eyes over the notebook that sat open to the first page in front of him. The thing looked hand written, the page filled with neat black letters. He began reading the first few sentences and realized – recalling fuzzy memories of a miserable childhood – that this was science. Hermione _had_ said that it was a muggle science, didn't she?

Before he could think any more on the subject the door off to the left at the front of the classroom burst open, banging against the wall and Edward Elric strode in, standing in front of the desk and glaring at the class with disdain.

Wow, he _really_ didn't want to be here, Harry realized.

"Velcome to your first alchemy class," He said, "I haf a question for you first. How many of you haf taken any muggle science class before?"

Hermione's arm hesitantly raised, and two others, including Harry, followed suit. Edward scowled.

"_*Shit, worse than the other classes...*_" He muttered, "Vell, den. Open de books in front of you, ve start at de beginning."

He walked to the blackboard just behind the desk and flipped it around, revealing a slightly familiar picture.

"Dis is de Periodic Table of-"

"Wait, wait, _wait_," A voice said from the back of the classroom, "Why are you teaching us _muggle chemistry?_ And who are you to teach us _anything_, _kid."_

Malfoy didn't know what hit him. Hell, no one knew what hit Malfoy, but in a shock of light he was lifted into the air by a stone hand, screaming and yelling and threatening to tell his father. It may have been the greatest moment of Harry Potter's life.

"_Dat _is vhy I vill be teaching you chemistry. Vithout de knowledge of de elements I vould not have been able to do dat," He said with a tight grin, then turned back to the board, "Now, dis is de Periodic Table of de Elements. You vill be needing to memorize de entire ting if you efer vant to touch an array-"

"_Aren't you going to let me down? Wait until my fath-mmmphg!_" With a crackle of light the stone moved to cover his mouth.

"Moving'k on..."

"Did you _see _what he did?"

"It was _awesome _that's what it was. I hope I don't get kicked out..."

"Muggle science! Who knew?"

"A _genius_. _Our _age."

"Bloody short bugger, though, in'e?"

News flew like mad in the halls of Hogwarts, and the first impressions of the Alchemy class with Professor Elric ("Ed, _please. Just stop calling me professor!_") were no exception to this. By the end of the week, however, enthusiasm subsided.

"He's a right nasty piece of work, that Elric!"

"Almost half of every class has been kicked out already!"

"Kicked out? I _wish. _ This is stupid! All we do is talk about elements and matter _all class._"

"Quizzes every day!"

"Gonna run us into the ground with all this homework!"

Edward sighed in contentment as the newest complaints reached his ear, satisfied that he could clear out the rest of the incompetent students by the end of his second week _teaching_. What a load of shit that was. But it'd keep the old man happy, and if that's what it took to do what he needed to do here then so be it. Edward closed his eyes and breathed, imagining what it'll be like when he's home with Al for good with nothing to weigh him down.

"Hem, hem."

They happy image shattered and the horrible woman stood in it's place, the scent of her potent perfume driving away the smells of home. He glared at the woman.

"Vhat to you vant," He asked, propping his feet up on his desk.

"I don't know _how_ the Headmaster convinced the Minister to allow you to stay," She said, "But I shall be keeping an eye on you. The Minister is not happy."

"Tell it to somevon hoo cares, ja?" Edward said with a raised brow.

"Your class is dangerous," She continued, undeterred, "It will _not _last. You have threatened students, even physically restraining them using your _alchemy_. Merlin willing, you'll be in Azkaban by the end of this, as well as Dumbledore for allowing this to go on."

"I am trembling vith fear," Edward said dryly.

"Just something to keep in mind, Mr Elric," She said with a sickening smile before turning on her heel and leaving the room.

The woman was getting on his nerves, and he hadn't missed the pale and scared looks on the faces of those who have returned from her detentions, which were plentiful. There was a difference between a Teacher scarring children for life for the sake of learning and proving themselves able to do something very difficult and dangerous, and scarring children for the sake of scaring them or for personal enjoyment.

And Edward had no doubt the woman enjoyed toying with the students.

Harry Potter had a particular haunted look about him lately and, though the detentions only served to make him jump at shadows even more, it seemed to stem from elsewhere. He was curious where from, but gave it little other thought. He was surprised Hermione didn't bring it up at all to him. Back at the house when he was learning English she would complain to him about Ron all the time, however she had yet to speak to him at all since she arrived at the school.

Edward was becoming increasingly frustrated with the lack of progress toward the end of Tom Riddle's demise. He had been out twice more this week, defending muggle homes or workplaces from Death Eater attacks, or cleaning up afterward. If wizards were anything, it would be slippery. Apparition made it nearly impossible to get his hands on any of them, despite the method of containment. He knocked one or two out cold cold, but before the battle was over they had been apparated away. He'd turned to simply defending the people or place under attack, satisfied with keeping anyone from dying.

There were mistakes, of course. Each one dogged his steps like every one before.

And yet, he was forced to spend the majority of his time teaching. He was the Fullmetal Alchemist. If there was a problem, anywhere, of any significance or insignificance, he could root it out. But he was _stuck. _It took a little while, but he realized that Dumbledore was restricting his movements for a reason. To him, the teaching was more important, and keeping him involved in this war against Tom Riddle fell to the wayside. He also wanted an eye on Harry, it seemed. The old man was resorting to spying on the boy who no longer seemed to want to come to him for anything. A restlessness settled inside him. He _knew_ the enemy, the problem. He should be allowed to go out and fix it.

Dumbledore seemed to tell him the bare minimum about Riddle, only wanting him to do as would benefit him. He was _manipulative, _Edward realized. As soon as he started teaching and doing what Dumbledore wanted, helping the Order on one mission or another, his side of the deal fell through, keeping to his own pace rather than giving Edward what he needed to work with. The library held enough information to keep him occupied for months, but after sifting through the useful and not-so-useful he realized that there was little there to help _him_. Counter spells, counter curses, protection charms. Everything a wizard needed to know to defend himself. Edward Elric was not a wizard.

And Edward Elric was decidedly _not happy._

It was then that Edward realized that he needed to take things into his own hands. He couldn't wait for the Order to make their move and, damn the vow to hell, he wasn't going to. With purpose he rose from his desk and walked briskly from the room.

Only to run headlong into Hermione as he entered the hall.

"P-Professor!"

"_*Damn it*_," He said rubbing his head with his good hand, "Didn't I tell you all not to call me dat?"

Hermione blushed and looked down at her feet.

"I'm sorry... um..."

"Edward," He said, with a frown, "Dat's vhat you called me before, at de house. Vhy has it changed now? Hell, call me Ed. Dat's vhat my friends do."

"I didn't think..." Hermione began, biting her lip, "I didn't think you'd want me to. After what happened."

Edward blinked.

"Hermione dat vas two veeks ago," He said, slightly baffled, "I had vondered vhy you hadn't come by at all. You still feel _guilty_? Dat's _stupid_."

Hermione looked up in surprise.

"You're not... still mad?" She asked incredulously.

"Vasted toughts," Edward said waving his hand, "You cannot dvell on de past for so long'k. It vill eat you ali_v_e."

"That's..." She began, looking up at him with wide eyes, "And all this time I thought – wait! Your accent's getting better. You said the 'v' in alive right!"

"Bah," Edward said with a frown, "I couldn't care less about de accent. I didn't spend any _time_ on getting rid of it or anyting."

"_Seferus."_

"_Se-_v_er-us. If you're going to insist on calling me by name, at _least _do it right."_

"_Se...Se_v_erus. Hah! I vin!"_

"_Yes it only took you an _hour._"_

"_Shut up, _Severus_."_

Edward held back a nervous laugh.

"Vell... anyvays," He said, narrowing his eyes at her, "Vhat are you doing'k out so late? Curfew is soon."

"Well," She said, "I came to talk to you, actually."

She stopped and glanced around the empty hall, shifting nervously. She took a deep breath and looked at him again, with determination.

"I read the entire notebook," She said, "And I know the entire Periodic Table by heart. Please, Edward, teach me alchemy!"

The exact tone of her voice made him almost think he was talking to Al and half expected her to bow as she pleaded, like his brother would. He blinked in surprise at her request while she looked up at him with expectant eyes. It was true that she was one of few in the class that was doing quite well. The girl seemed to absorb every scrap of information offered to her – and when there were no scraps to be had she'd still somehow _find_ them. She'd come to the class every day with a new question. Still, though, he hadn't intended to actually get around to teaching them alchemy.

Though he imagined, he was going to be here longer than he had first anticipated. Of all the people he would chose to teach alchemy, she'd likely be on the top of the list. A sudden thought struck him.

"I vill teach you," He said with finality, "I vill teach you and in return you vill convince Harry to tell me everyting about his fight vith Riddle."

A grin split across her face, but then fell when he presented the exchange.

"He..." She began, biting her lip, "He doesn't like to talk about that..."

"Ja," Edward said, "I understand dat. Vhich is vhy it is equivalent to a task of such magnitude. Alchemy is not easy."

She looked down, seeming to contemplate the consequences of agreeing, then nodded sullenly.

"I'll talk to him," She said quietly.

"Ja," Edward nodded and then turned to continue down the hall to his initial destination, then stopped a short ways away, turning back to her with a smirk, "Right, von more ting."

She looked up questioningly.

"All is von," He said almost reverently, "And von is all. Vhen you can tell me vhat dis means, I vill teach you Alchemy."

"Wait – but – I thought – Harry!" She sputtered.

"Ja," Edward said with a grin, "Harry is de tuition. _Dat_ is de entrance exam."

He raised a hand, waving as he turned to continue away. Hermione stared after him, looking rather dumbfounded, and after he had turned he heard her stomp her foot with a huff of frustration, muttering:

"All is one, one is all. All is one, one is all..."

Edward laughed to himself as he continued down toward the dungeon. That should be a pretty good source of information on Riddle. Now, to try to weasel some more information out of another good source.

* * *

><p>AN: I apologize for any terribleness. I've come across a bit of a... 'well, what now?' But I'm working on it!


	8. Chapter 8

**To Settle a Debt**

**Chapter 8**

* * *

><p>Speaking to the Potions Master was definitely not as productive as he had hoped. Severus seemed to be very tight lipped about everything, unwilling to give even the smallest amount of the information that he needed and the Headmaster was denying him. He was also entirely unapologetic about his evasiveness, essentially telling Edward to piss off and do what he was told.<p>

Edward was not patient enough for that.

He hadn't seen hide nor hair of Hermione except in class since they had spoken, and that was a few days ago already. Harry had taken to glaring at him suspiciously whenever he got the chance, so Edward assumed that Hermione had asked already, to a negative response. Edward had kept the students busy learning chemistry for a good while now, and the grades of even the students he hadn't kicked out were still frighteningly abysmal. There were only a few in each class that seemed interested and he'd remove the ones that weren't from the class if Dumbledore hadn't cut him off.

He wondered briefly how teaching Hermione outside of class would work out. She certainly had great interest in the subject and her comprehension of science was adequate. However, his experience learning alchemy was certainly not something conventional – even in his world. In class he just rattled off facts while the students took notes or something, not really putting much effort into the teaching.

However, if Dumbledore wasn't going to give him the information he needed, he was going to have to get it elsewhere. He would figure out everything he could about his enemy and how to get to him, no matter what it took. At first the Headmaster had seemed extremely pleased with his task here, and he thought it was going to be easy; but the pace Dumbledore set was too slow, and decidedly not Fullmetal Alchemist style. The old man seemed content to watch and wait, insisting that there was little else he could do while the Ministry remained unwilling to accept the fact of the Dark Lord's return.

But Edward Elric was bound by no man, and no rule. Never before had anything stopped him, and their sham of a government sure as hell wasn't going to. He told Dumbledore as much and the man only told him to have patience. Patience, patience, patience!

Fuck patience.

He needed to _do_ something.

On his way to breakfast he suddenly realized something, stopping dead in his tracks.

"_I must warn you, however; he knows about you," Severus had said, "You're hard _not _to notice, anyways. You've sent his people back with _holes _in them. He's wary, but curious. He knows you use alchemy. He was once interested in the philosopher's stone."_

"_Alright, but are you going to tell me anyting _useful?_" Edward questioned, frustrated._

_Severus gave him a pointed look._

"_I suppose not."_

Oh.

How had he not caught that before? Maybe he got a little too mad at the man for giving him nothing to work with. It seemed that he had, after all. But was he really suggesting...?

He wouldn't put it past the man. He seemed to have a determination to take down Riddle that far exceeded many others in the Order, perhaps only matched entirely by Sirius or Remus. He had a feeling that the man would do anything, even go behind Dumbledore's back and throw a kid to the wolves, to destroy him.

Edward grinned, and continued toward the Great Hall for breakfast with a little more ease.

Wolves; meet dog.

* * *

><p>"No, Hermione," Harry said before the girl could even speak.<p>

Her mouth clicked shut and she pursed her lips.

The common room was nearly empty, and they had a quiet corner to themselves, where no one would really hear much of anything they said.

Not like anyone ever listened to or believed anything _he_ said.

"It's none of his business," Harry continued, "Haven't you stopped to think _why_ he wants to know? Why would anyone want to know about what happened when Voldemort returned? The only people who need to know the details, already do."

"Harry, please," Hermione pleaded, "It's not like he'd use the information for anything _bad_. I mean think about it. Dumbledore wouldn't have hired him if he didn't trust him, I'm sure we can, too."

"I'm not recounting the details of the worst day of my life to someone I don't even know just because you want to learn alchemy," Harry said.

He was getting entirely sick of Hermione asking him constantly for this. It wasn't _Edward's_ business. He was beginning to agree with Ron's opinion of the kid. He didn't trust him, he didn't know Edward, and Edward didn't know him or what he'd gone through because of Voldemort. He was under no obligation to tell him anything.

This whole fiasco was doing nothing to calm his ever tightening nerves. With every nightmare he jumped little more at every shadow, and took one more paranoid glance around every room. Harry unconsciously rubbed at the back of his hand; Umbridge wasn't helping either. What Moody had done was wrong, but he understood it. This kid comes out of literally nowhere, and suddenly everything becomes his business? No. He was suspicious, this Edward. Did no one think about how horribly determined he was to keep what happened to his arm a secret? The kid broke his own _jaw_ for Merlin's sake! They were to believe that he had nothing to hide? That they could trust him?

"The answer is 'no', Hermione," Harry said quietly, "It will be 'no' the next time you ask, too, so don't."

"Harry..." She said with wide, pleading eyes.

"No."

With that he left the common room, heading up the stairs to the dormitories, Hermione calling after him.

* * *

><p>Hermione thought and thought and thought as she picked at breakfast the next morning. But, as much as she thought, she couldn't think what Edward could have meant by 'All is one, and one is all'. No more than she could think of a way to convince Harry to speak to Edward about that night, last year. With a sigh, she pushed the plate away and stood. The boys looked up at her, Ron with irritation, Harry just tired.<p>

He was always tired these days.

"Come on, we ought to get to class," she said with her hands on her hips, looking at their reluctant expressions, "We'll be late if we don't leave now. I doubt Professor Snape will be happy with _that_."

With a groan, Ron pulled himself from his seat and Harry followed suit, seeming subdued.

"Potions first thing in the morning should be a crime," Ron grumbled as he grabbed his bag and they left the Great Hall.

Hermione was distracted all day, as she had been for the past several, thinking of what Edward's words meant. She was barely able to finish her potion this morning, and it wasn't up to her usual standards, earning a sneer, a remark, and a point deduction from Snape. It made her feel pretty horrible, but did little to deter her thoughts.

She tried to shake the thoughts as she and Harry made their way to their last class. Alchemy. She wanted to at least pay attention there. As they turned a corner they saw a small group of students (the ones left in the class after Edward's spree of kicking people out – Malfoy and Ron included) standing in front of the door, fighting to read a small piece of paper that seemed tacked on the wood.

She and Harry shared a glance, his of suspicion, and hers of curiosity, and they quickened their steps.

One of the students broke away with a 'whoop' of joy and hurried off. The others broke into grins, and rushed off through the halls as well. Harry and Hermione came to the door and read the note there.

**Class canceled. Gone to Diagon Alley. **

**Read the next ten pages in your notebook.**

"How strange," Hermione said, brow furrowing, "What could he need in Diagon Alley?"

* * *

><p>Edward walked down Diagon Alley with a skip in his step and a bright expression. The sun was just about going down and there was a slight chill in the air, leaving his arm and leg aching. The summer air seemed to be dissipating, leaving the cool and wet fall in its wake and Edward was not looking forward to it, though the thought did little to disrupt his mood.<p>

Maybe he shouldn't be _so_ happy about his plan, but he was glad to be taking action.

He strolled through the street, exploring the place as the sky darkened and a few of the shops closed for the night. He probably didn't have to cancel his last two classes for this, but he really didn't feel like dealing with the students, and wanted the time to get a good idea of this place.

He was planning on getting kidnapped in it after all.

Screw Dumbledore, this was a _good_ plan. He'd deal with the fallout later. There was no need to tell anyone what he was planning; besides, Snape would know as soon as he turned up missing, if he wasn't the one to take him in the first place.

Darkness settled over the quiet street, people clearing from the streets, and Edward began looking for an ominous alley between some shops, preferably one with a dead end. He glanced around and caught sight of a decrepit wooden sign over a darkened way.

**Knockturn Alley**

Down the way he could see some run down shops and questionable characters, most covering their faces, walking about down there.

Well, if that place didn't look ominous, dark, and dangerous, he didn't know what did.

Satisfied with his destination, he turned on his heel and began to strut down the alley confidently, the bright red coat he had transmuted for himself painting him as a target. People suspiciously looked at him, glaring from beneath dark hoods. The dark alley was dimly lit by torches by some of the shops, though he found himself often walking in almost complete blackness. Definitely a good choice.

"Are you sure that's him?" A hushed voice hissed.

"I _think_ I know what my colleague looks like, _Avery_," Severus' velvet tones whispered back.

Jackpot. Thank you, Severus.

"_*I swear I will never say your name wrong again.*_"

"_Stupefy!_" He heard a voice hiss.

He could have ducked if he wanted to. Even if he had done it wordlessly he would have seen the flash of light behind him and moved accordingly. That would defeat the purpose, however. So he let the spell hit his back and knock the breath out of him.

The world went black.

* * *

><p>When next he woke he was reminded of the first time he came to in this world. Voices speaking around him, growing in volume, and for a moment even when they came to an understandable level, he had to strain his groggy mind to recognize the words.<p>

"He's a _M__uggle_ he hasn't _got_ a wand," Severus hissed, "Don't waste time looking for it."

"A _Muggle?_" Another said

"I told you that before; he's a Muggle alchemist," Severus said

"Alchemy is a magic!" The other continued.

"It began as a Muggle _science_," A bone-chilling voice said, "He is useful to us all the same. Severus? I believe he is waking."

Edward felt himself lifted up, his arms trapped behind his back and forced to kneel on the stone floor. Slowly he opened his eyes, and attempted to take in his surroundings. It was dark, almost too dark to see, and he strained to make out the face of the man standing before him, a short ways away. Narrow red eyes studied him on a face that couldn't possibly be human.

"_Tom Riddle is the man's name, though he could scarce be called a man still."_

"Welcome, Mr. Alchemist," The creature said with a disturbing, gleeful smile. The voice and words sent a cold shiver down his spine, but the grip on his arms – the left one anyway – was almost reassuring.

Though, he didn't expect any kind of help. The man had an image to keep, after all.

"Vell," Edward said, "Very good to meet you, Tom Riddle."

The man's distorted features twisted further into a scowl and rage filled those red eyes of his. He whipped out his wand in a flash and Edward braced himself for whatever would come his way, the grip on his arm tightening.

"_Crucio!_" Riddle hissed.

Pain erupted in him, every muscle twisting a way it shouldn't and bones straining to break, just the desire to scream bubbling forth. Edward's eyes widened and he couldn't help his body attempting to twist away from the pain, curl in on itself. The only thing keeping him still was the tight grip on his arms, holding him back from wrapping his arms around himself and falling to the ground. He grit his teeth, mouth shut tight against the torrent of pain, refusing to cry out. He held back the urge to lower his gaze, golden pain-filled eyes glaring straight at the man before him whose face twisted in hatred.

This pain would not conquer him. The pain of the loss of his arm and leg did not conquer him. The pain of the auto-mail surgery did not conquer him. A goddamned beam through his stomach and pulling it _out_ didn't conquer him.

He felt like he was suffocating, and his lungs refused to take in the air around him.

Suddenly the pain ended and the aching of his jaw became noticeable, his teeth pained from pressing against each other so tightly. Edward gasped breaths filled his needy and hurting lungs. God, everything ached. Still his eyes refused to leave those of the man before him, which only seemed to fuel his rage.

"_That_ is not my name," He hissed.

"Vell, dat's vonderful to know," Edward quipped through gasps of breath, "Vhat do you vant vith me?"

As if he didn't know.

"The philosopher's stone," Riddle said, "You are an alchemist."

Edward held back a snort; state the obvious why don't you. His eyes darted around the room, now that they had adjusted to the darkness. It was elaborate and had a high ceiling, pillars holding it up and a circle of men cloaked in black surrounded them. There was no clear indication of where exactly they were, and there was no way of knowing even how far from Diagon Alley he had been taken. He could figure that out later, however, after he had _Voldemort_ in chains before Dumbledore.

Patience. What a joke.

He hoped that would make Truth happy, then he could go. Edward briefly realized that he didn't need anything from Harry after all, which meant he'd have no obligation to teach Hermione anything as well, leaving him free to go.

"Do not ignore me!"

Oh, right. Edward gave him a bored look, not keen on being on the wrong end of that spell again, but not able to resist.

"You test my patience, _Muggle,_" Voldemort hissed, "You will answer me!"

"Dat vas a question?" Edward asked, Riddle raised his wand, "Yes, I am an alchemist! Anger management, much?"

The curse flew, but Edward was prepared this time, tightening his jaw and keeping as still as possible, willing himself to ignore the pain. It ended quicker this time, breaking off and leaving Edward gasping for breath once more.

"You are in no position to be _smart_ with me," Voldemort said with a satisfied glint in his eyes.

Breathe, Elric. Just breathe.

"The Philosopher's Stone," Voldemort repeated, "Muggle alchemists searched for a thousand years for the stone. The Elixir of Life, the secret to _immortality._ Destroyed by that old _fool_ and its creator, Flamel. _Dumbledore_ and Flamel were the only ones to know how to create it. The only two supposed to know how to perform alchemy."

Red eyes glared at him suspiciously.

"And then you appear," He said.

How convenient it was that, even in this world, everyone wanted the Philosopher's Stone.

"Flamel is dead and the old fool is out of reach-"

"Not so foolish den is he?" Edward interrupted.

Voldemort twitched in annoyance, but did not move to raise his wand again.

"Imagine my surprise when _you_ go walking past two of my own in Knockturn Alley," He said, "An opportunity they were all-too-happy to take advantage of. You did leave one of them with quite the injury."

"Oh, did I?" Edward said with a roll of his eyes, "Sorry about dat."

He _was _actually, if it was Severus.

"Enough," Voldemort hissed, "The Philosopher's Stone is a thing of such power that can only be dreamed. Power that I wish to attain. What do you know of its creation?"

"Don't know anything, sorry," Edward said, "Can't help you."

Voldemort grinned, "You're lying to me. _Legilimens!_"

The grip on his arm tightened in surprised and the thought 'Shit' came immediately to Edward's mind.

Suddenly Edward was assaulted by images, familiarly painful images, as a presence invaded his mind.

"_*Are you sure this is going to work, brother?*" Alphonse's timid voice asked._

"_*Don't worry, Al, it'll be fine,*" Edward reassured, finishing the transmutation circle._

Nonononono!

The image shifted.

"_*What the _hell _did you do!*" The harsh voice broke through the emptiness as he was lifted into the air my his shirt._

"_*We're sorry, sir,*" Al's sad, echoing voice – _Ohgodohgodididthis – _said shakily, "*We're sorry.*"_

Again the image changed.

No, no, stop!

"_*No going back now, Al-*"_

Again.

"_*The Philosopher's stone... I know how it's made.*"_

NO!

"GET DE _FUCK_ OUT OF MY HEAD!"

The world came sharply back into focus as the presence was torn from his mind, leaving his head aching painfully. Breath came in quick pants as Edward reasserted reality, shaking the images from his mind.

"_Legilimens, it's a spell that allows you to enter the mind of another, see their memories," Severus said, "Why do you want to know?"_

"_Dumbledore said that Riddle was good at it," Edward said, "How is it countered?"_

_Severus snorted._

"_Magic, Elric," He said, "You would be quite at his mercy."_

"_Tell me anyway."_

_Severus fixed him with a strange look._

"_Occlumency."_

Edward was beginning to think that the shit had been preparing him for this. Occlumency was, indeed, magic, but behind it was simple force of will; which was something that Edward definitely had. He might not be able to hide his thoughts, but he sure as hell could keep someone the _fuck_ out of them.

"_What was that?_" Voldemort hissed, "_What was that language?_"

Edward grinned.

"Vell, vouldn't you like to know," Edward said.

"_Crucio!_"

* * *

><p>"Canceled?" Dumbledore asked.<p>

"Yeah," The student replied with a shrug, "There was a note on his door saying that he'd gone to Diagon Alley. Is something wrong, Headmaster?"

"No, of course not," Dumbledore said with a soft smile, "I simply forgot."

"Alright, sir," The student said and continued on down the hall.

Edward and Severus were both missing. Dumbledore headed toward his office with a tight frown on his face. Neither had been at dinner. Severus disappears occasionally to answer summons, so that was not worrying. Edward hadn't been in the library for days, however, which made his nonattendance more worrying.

The boy was impatient, more so than Harry, or almost anyone else he'd ever met. Edward was unwilling to wait for the Order to be able to begin acting. He should not have withheld anything from the boy, he should have known why they couldn't move. Simply telling him to be patient until the Ministry was done keeping its head in the sand clearly did not work.

There was still the simple fact that Voldemort was not dead, when he should have been. He should have told Edward much more than he did. Edward should have known that they did not believe that Voldemort could be killed so easily.

Dumbledore swept into his office, giving Fawkes a passing pet as he sat behind his desk.

He waited.

* * *

><p>When Voldemort was done with him he was practically numb to the pain, which only served to anger the man. Voldemort gave a short promise of having the truth from him before he had been bound and dragged away, down a long hall and a flight of stairs. He heard the familiar sound of metal screeching and knew that he'd been taken to a cell of some sort. He was tossed in, unceremoniously and the door screeched shut.<p>

He heard a light clack behind him.

"I do hope you know what you're doing," Severus said.

Edward struggled to a sitting position, looking up at the masked man on the other side of the bars with a grin.

"The Dark Lord is a busy man," Severus said, "I imagine you'd have a little more than two hours."

The man turned then and walked away. Edward's eyes fell to the floor, where a small piece of chalk lay.

How nice.

Unnecessary, however.

Edward struggled in his bonds and pressed his hands together. In a flash, he was free.

* * *

><p>AN: Okay, I'm a little late. But =P.


	9. Chapter 9

**To Settle a Debt**

**Chapter 9**

* * *

><p>Halls seemed to stretch on and on in this building – mansion it seemed – that he was in. Edward continued along, exploring the place, occasionally ducking into an alcove to avoid a person walking by. He pressed an ear to every door, hearing nothing on the other side of any of them. The place was practically deserted, save the few people he came across in the halls.<p>

So, Riddle wanted to get his hands on a Philosopher's Stone. From what he knew, the stone in this world was just as powerful as the one in his own, succeeding in extending the life of a man named Nicolas Flamel to almost seven hundred years.

Edward wondered briefly how many souls it would take to create a stone that would do that and then some. The stone was pretty big, from what he was told, and had a lot left in it when it was destroyed. It was a sobering thought.

Edward twitched, and fought a spasm that tried to force its way through his body. He cursed quietly. He'd read about the Cruciatus Curse, and what after-effects it could have. He fought them the best he could as he went on through the halls.

What Riddle wanted with the stone, he could hazard a guess. Money, power, immortality; all things that the stone could give. The price of the stone created through alchemy, however, for a stone that powerful, Edward wouldn't be surprised if it would take an entire country of people. A wizard, _a goddamned wizard_, had made one, without even a strand of hair as price. It all felt wrong in his head. He felt like there was something missing in his mind. A skipped step.

Severus said two hours. That gave him plenty of time to look around. Edward hazard a look inside all of the rooms he heard nothing from, rifling through desk after desk and cabinet after cabinet. He came across what looked like a library, eventually, and began pulling books off of shelves – with his right hand, he had learned in Grimmauld place not to trust the things – flipping through them cautiously. Dark magic, dark magic, dark magic.

He came upon a particular stack of books, piled atop a desk and covered in a layer of dust. They looked as if they had laid untouched for months, years even. Edward walked to the stack of books, but stopped just before touching them, feeling a creeping shiver running up his spine. He reached out with his right arm, and was unsurprisingly met with resistance. Edward forced his hand onward and a strange shield became visible, sparking with energy.

With a growl he clapped his hands together and put them to the floor, forcing the energy through the shield and toppling the desk, the books falling in a heap outside of the shield. Tentatively, Edward picked up one of the books, reading the title.

**Blood Magic**

If the title wasn't ominous enough, there was a gruesome picture on the front that moved. A man on the right had his wand trained on the man on the left, a stream of light between the left man and the wand. Slowly the man on the left aged and withered as the man on the right became young. With a sickening sense of dread, Edward opened the book. In black and white, it explained the idea of sucking the life out of another in order to replenish one's own. The margins were littered with notes, spidery red ink discounting every theory presented within, to Edward's great relief. He picked up another from the pile.

**The Philosopher's Stone**

This one even had Nicolas Flamel's name right on it. Edward had known that Flamel had published a book on his stone; hell, he'd read it. This seemed to be the very same book. He opened it anyway, reading the red inked notes between the lines and in the margins.

_Promising..._

_Powerful..._

_Possible to return the dead to life-_

Stop. Stop right there.

As far as it seemed, Voldemort wasn't trying to bring anyone back to life. He wanted _power_ from the stone, is all Edward could imagine from the mad. So, why would there be notes referring to the possibility of bringing the dead back to life.

"_All you need to focus on is stopping his followers where you can. When the time comes that you need to know more, you will."_

"_Voldemort has returned, after fourteen years of absence."_

"_We thought him defeated; gone from this world. We were wrong."_

"_The Dark Lord is growing stronger with every day, his power returning."_

No, there was no way.

The dead don't come back.

Not ever.

Edward dropped the book and it hit the floor with an audible thump, and he backed away. It just wasn't possible. Not even in this world. No matter what this magic gave them, there was nothing equal to a human soul, not even another human soul! _You can't make one out of thin air!_

SSSSsssssssssssssss.

The quiet sound was all the warning he got, and he dodged to the side, barely quick enough to evade the large snake that threw itself at Edward.

* * *

><p>Harry bolted upright in bed, arm outstretched in front of him, scar burning.<p>

"PROFESSOR!"

His breath came in short pants as Ron yelled from the bed beside him and hit the floor with a dull thud. He _saw_ it! Edward! Being attacked by a snake! These dreams, they were real. They had to be. It was too real to be fake. Whether he trusted the guy or not, he was being attacked.

"What the-" Seamus began in his distinct lilt, "Dreaming again, Potter? None of us are going to get any sleep with you around."

"Shut up, Finnegan," Ron growled, pulling himself from the floor and stomping his way to Harry's bed.

"Just go back to sleep..." Dean mumbled from his bed.

"You alright, mate?" Ron asked.

Harry shook himself out of his shock, wide eyes finding Ron's.

"No!" He said, scrambling out of bed, "I have to tell Dumbledore!"

"What the – Harry wait up!"

Neville snored away.

* * *

><p>A snake. A <em>goddamn snake<em>. This was, absolutely, the most ridiculous fight he had ever been in. It wasn't a chimera, just a straight up snake.

He was beginning to believe that he hated snakes.

The thing was way too fast, and extremely strong. It had wrapped itself around his auto-mail arm and he could _hear_ the metal straining. The only thing that saved it was transmuting the plate over the auto-mail into a blade, tearing through the creature's skin and forcing it to relinquish its grip. It slithered away into the shadows, then, attempting to strike from there. Edward narrowly dodged one leap after another, swinging with his blade in an attempt to catch her midair.

The snake struck again and Edward's blade sung through the air, finding its target at last. The snake hissed and hit the ground with a thud, a bleeding hole in its side. It attempted a twisted slither to escape, seeming as if it were tripping over itself and its wound as it began to bleed out. Edward felt something dripping down his cheek, reaching his hand up and twitching at the sting when it met a small cut. The snake must have nicked him.

Before he could finish odd the writhing creature the doors flew open and Edward secured himself quickly behind a bookcase as he heard footsteps enter the room.

"I know you're in here, little man," A growling voice called, "I can _smell _you there."

Edward cursed; this would be like fighting Gluttony. Making a quick decision he decided to have the first strike, moving out from behind the bookcase, quickly finding the bulky, rugged looking man at the door and darting toward him, auto-mail blade raised.

The man snarled and dodged quickly, though not quick enough to avoid a decent slice on his arm. A hex was slung at Edward, followed quickly by a sloppy, heavy punch. He dodged the first, then was suddenly overcome by dizziness, and – no, not now! - a short clenching of his muscles as pain wracked his body with the aftereffect of the Cruciatus, his vision blurry as he stumbled to dodge the blow, being caught by it heavily in the side.

What the hell?

Scrounging together his coherent thoughts, he clapped his hands together as his back hit a bookcase, allowing himself to slip to the ground as the man's fist embedded itself in the wood where his head once was.

Edward pressed grabbed the man's leg and alchemic energy crackled up the leg and through the man's body. Blood forced its way through the man's skin, cuts breaking across his body and blood spurting out as the man yelled, stumbling backward and grabbing at his wounds.

"You're lucky I do not like killing people," Edward said, pulling himself upright as his vision continued to fail him, "If I vanted to, I could have stopped your heart just now."

The man growled, falling to the floor weakly as blood poured from him.

"The Dark Lord won't-"

Edward pulled together all his strength and kicked the man in his head, knocking him out cold. The wave of dizziness that came upon him then was enough to drag him to the floor. What the hell was happening to him? Edward struggled back to his feet, catching sight of his blood-drenched clothes. What the-? His cheek was numb; he couldn't feel anything from where the cut was, down to his chin.

He reached up with his left hand, pressing it to his face, then pulling it away and holding it in front of his eyes. The once pristine white cloth was drenched in blood. It had been such a little cut! Why was it even still bleeding?

A flash of movement to his right caught his eye. The snake; of course. He'd been poisoned. The creature had found its way back to the shadows, but Edward surmised that it was too injured to do anything but retreat, if even it would get that far before it bled out.

Shit. He was in trouble.

* * *

><p>When Harry and Ron reached Dumbledore's office, under the cover of the invisibility cloak, they realized that they didn't know the password. In a panic they yelled at the gargoyle, trying to get it to let them in. Suddenly it flew to the side, revealing Dumbledore on the other side, looking at them with a sad glint in his eye.<p>

"Boys, what brings you here so late at night?" He asked, gesturing them to enter.

"I-I saw something," Harry said, beginning to climb the stairs behind Dumbledore, "In my dream..."

Dumbledore did not reply, and did not even look at him when they reached the office, vexing Harry greatly.

"In my dream I was a-a snake and I was going through some house, a mansion I think. I come into a library and... Professor Elric was there, backing away from a stack of books. He looked horrified. Then I... the snake attacked him. That's when I woke up. Sir, my scar was burning, I don't think it was a dream!"

"I know," The Headmaster said, moving further into the office, patting Fawkes gently, "Mr. Elric decided to act on his own. We know where he is, and he will be retrieved."

"What the hell _happened?_" Ron asked.

"Order business; it is nothing you need to concern yourselves with," Dumbledore said, walking to stand before the fireplace, just as it flared green, "Return to your dormitory."

A muffled voice came from the Floo before it returned to the normal orange glow of fire.

"You see? All is well."

Dumbledore ushered the dissatisfied pair from his office, the gargoyle glaring at them when they turned around to try to force their way back in for more answers.

* * *

><p>Greyback was bleeding and unconscious on the floor. Books that had been undisturbed for years laid open on the floor, blood staining the pages. He noticed a toppled and disfigured table and a disturbed shield, protesting the change of its contents. It was a stack of books he had once, himself, attempted to get at, thwarted in every attempt. A jolt of anticipation shot through him. Edward had gotten to them.<p>

However, with the puddle of blood on the floor, devoid of the one who had left it, it was becoming increasingly clear that _no_, Edward did _not_ know what he was doing.

Severus turned and left the scene, following the scattered trail of blood down the hall; a smear on the wall here, a small stain on the floor there. It seemed the boy had quite the injury. Quickening his stride, Severus made his way through the halls, following the blood to the point where it ended, before a large doorway, a bloody half hand print clear against the white wood.

Voldemort had left the building for a short while, though only thirty minutes after Severus left Edward in the cell he returned, face twisted in rage.

"_Find the Muggle!_" He had screeched.

How he knew that Edward had escaped was beyond him, but Greyback was the first out of he room, tracking Edward down. It looked like he werewolf had left quite the mark on Edward, if all this blood was any indication, before he fell to the young alchemist. Cautiously, Severus put an ear to the door and listened. Soft pants of breath were audible in the room beyond; a room he knew to have a high ceiling and an eerie echo. It was a part of the mansion that was hardly used, and there would likely be no one but Edward beyond. With Greyback out of commission, it would take a while for anyone else to find him here.

Unless, of course, they happened upon the library.

Tentatively he looked inside, and then came fully into the room when he caught sight of Edward, slumped against a pillar, gripping a few books under his right arm. Edward shook and curled in on himself, seeming to hold back the spasm, as he slid to the floor. It was incredible will that defied the effects of the Cruciatus.

"Edward!" Severus hissed.

The boy looked up, but hardly seemed to be seeing him. Besides a small cut on his left cheek that positively _oozed_ blood, he didn't seem to be injured. Such a small injury; it should have stopped bleeding ages ago, and especially shouldn't have produced so much that he had seen, leading him here. Edward was poisoned, Severus realized. He had come across the snake, Nagini. It was a miracle the kid was alive; that snake is quick and deadly.

Severus went to the boy's side, glancing briefly at the books under his arm, and lifted him to his feet.

"I'm sorry things didn't go as you planned, Elric," Severus resisted rolling his eyes, "If you really even had a plan."

"No..." Edward mumbled, "Dere is more here. I must find more."

"Don't be a fool, Edward," Severus said, "It's time to leave."

Glancing back at the door quickly, muttering a Disillusionment Charm and Muffliato, he hoisted Edward up. The only thing Edward seemed focused on was holding the books tightly to his side, and gave little resistance as Severus slung him over his shoulder. He heard quick steps from the halls and held back a curse, pulled Edward out of the room and down another way. He just had to get out of this area of the mansion; then he could apparate them out.

Edward went slack against him, oblivion seeming to take him, and Severus hurried along through the halls. Just a little further. Door after door they passed and Severus could almost feel Edward slipping away from him, as he charmed away every drop of blood that the boy spilled, leaving no trace of them.

They broke the threshold of the shield preventing apparition, and with a crack, they disappeared.

* * *

><p>The Great Hall was abuzz with noise, the Headmaster standing at the podium, awaiting the rest of the students to arrive for breakfast to make an announcement. Harry glared up at the old wizard, distrust seeping out of every pore. He knew nothing this year, because Dumbledore insisted on keeping him in the dark. He was getting sick with the feeling of betrayal, and abandonment. Hermione's idea of creating a Defense club might be the only thing keeping him together right now.<p>

"Your attention, please," The Headmaster called as the last of the students filed in.

Silence fell over the hall, a whisper here and there the only thing breaking it.

"Alchemy class will be canceled for the rest of the week," Dumbledore said, looking out over the hall, "While in Diagon Alley, Professor Elric came on the receiving end of an errant hex, and shall be out of commission for some time."

The whispers grew in volume, many in jubilation. Many snickers came from the Slytherin table, seeming to mock the Professor for being so easily overcome. There were those there however, that held a strange knowing glint in their eyes. Harry didn't trust the kid, didn't even like him, really, but he knew that he had to be severely injured. After his vision the night before, his opinion of Edward had been put through the ringer. He didn't really know what to think of Edward Elric anymore. He – the snake – attacked Edward, and it looked, _felt_, like the vision was real. When he woke, his scar burned, and he knew that the snake was the enemy, Voldemort even.

What was the saying? The enemy of my enemy is my friend?

He didn't know about friend, but as soon as Edward was back, he had things to ask. It looked like Elric knew things, that he was involved. He should have figured, with the sudden way that he became a teacher here and Hogwarts, after only just showing up in Grimmauld place two weeks previous.

It was time that Harry learned a thing or two about just what was going on.

* * *

><p>Stark white met him as his eyes flew open. With a groan, Edward realized that he was back in the hospital wing. Light was blocked out as a figure bent over him. Poppy gave him a relieved smile, brushing his hair away from his face.<p>

"You gave us quite the scare, young man," She said, waving her wand over him.

"How long vas I out?" Edward asked.

Suddenly he was assaulted by memories. He had been kidnapped – turned out to be a great plan, didn't it, Elric? - and met, face-to-face, Voldemort. Memory of the torture brought an ache to his body and he held back a twitch, grateful that his body didn't threaten to divulge into spasms of pain. He had found... something there.

The books.

The books!

"How did I get here?" Edward asked, trying to sit up in the bed.

"Don't move, just yet, young man," The Medi-witch chided, pushing him back down, "You're lucky to be alive, after being poisoned, and losing so much blood. You're fortunate that you only had a little of the poison in your system; just enough to weaken you and prevent blood clotting."

"Severus..." Edward realized.

"Yes," She said, "He brought you back. Now, hush. You should rest some more."

Edward was hard pressed to resist, his eyes falling slowly shut once more.

"But... vhat about... de books."

"What books?"

Sleep took him.

* * *

><p>"I would like to know," Voldemort hissed, "How a <em>Muggle<em> managed to escape us."

Severus looked up at the Dark Lord with hidden trepidation. He was a more disturbing sight that usual, with the corpse of his snake, Nagini, wrapped around his neck. The fury in his eyes was unmistakable. Greyback had already been tortured for his failure, and Severus quite imagined that he was next.

Immediately after passing off Edward to Poppy at the gate he hurried to his office and stashed the books that the boy had snatched there, returning quickly to the mansion, hoping against hope that he was not missed. To his great relief, he had not been. Severus hadn't imagined that Edward had killed the snake, and Voldemort's fury was immense. The snake was something that the Dark Lord had always shown a strange amount of affection. Now its corpse laid around his neck and over his shoulders, having long since bled out.

"Severus," The Dark Lord hissed, "You were the one to bind him. _How did he escape?_"

Severus stayed, knelt on the ground, and lowered his eyes.

"I am sorry, My Lord."

"_Crucio!_"

* * *

><p>When Edward woke again, it was dark. Something had woken him, however. A sound – there it was again! A light tap on the marble floor of the Hospital Wing gave indication that he was not alone. Someone was moving toward him quietly. Edward opened his eyes and looked toward where the noise came from. There was nothing there, only the stark white curtain that sectioned him off from the rest of the Hospital Wing. Edward snorted.<p>

"I may not be able to see you," He said, "But I know you are dere."

There was a rustle of fabric and suddenly Harry Potter was standing before him, looking at him curiously.

"I think it's about time we got to know each other," Harry said with finality.

Edward studied the boy, determination emanating from him. He hadn't given the kid too much thought, in the past. The only thing he really knew is that a _prophet_ had said that he would be the only one who can kill Riddle. He didn't know much of anything else, other than that he was at the center of many things involving Riddle; a target of the man.

It was infuriating that this boy, who was clearly involved deeply, was being told as little as he himself. He seemed to have no trust for Edward, though, either. The kid was every day growing a paranoia that rivaled Moody's, and it was time he set him straight.

It would be hypocritical of him, anyway, to deny the boy the chance to fight his own fight.

"Yes, I tink it is," Edward agreed.

* * *

><p>AN: The first five chapters of this fic were written before I began posting. I was trying to get a chapter out a day but I got stuck on one, so my posting caught up to my writing. Don't be alarmed if I don't post exactly one a day; I'm falling a bit behind with college starting and whatnot. I will keep up as best I can!

And I do realize that I kind of stole Neville's moment...


	10. Chapter 10

**To Settle a Debt**

**Chapter 10**

* * *

><p>"My name is Edward Elric," Edward deadpanned, holding out his right, prosthetic hand for Harry to shake, "I'm an alchemist."<p>

Harry looked at him in bafflement for a moment, before shaking himself out of his stupor with a nervous laugh. He took Edward's hand and shook it, thankful for the light grip that Edward gave.

"Harry Potter" he said, "wizard."

"Nice to meet you, I'm sure," Edward said, "You don't trust me."

"I don't," Harry said simply, "but recently, I've been debating that."

Edward studied the boy. Harry Potter; the boy that Dumbledore claims is the only one who can strike down Riddle. He was the only one in the last fourteen years that has faced down Voldemort in a fight, let alone escape with his life. He could see why it would be so difficult to do so, having met the man himself. Ruthlessness was something to be wary of, even with lack of skill behind it. Though, it didn't seem like there was any lack of skill on Riddle's part. Why else would he have so many followers that bowed and scraped for his approval? It was fear; deep-rooted fear (plus a heavy helping of crazy).

"You're in the Order, aren't you?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Edward responded with a scowl, "Not like dey actually _tell_ me anyting. All de old man has let me do is fight off attacks."

"So you took matters into your own hands," Harry said with a grimace, "I wish I could do even that much."

"I have neglected your importance here for too long, it looks like," Edward said, "I did vhat I said I vould not; I underestimated dis vorld. I underestimated vizards. Now I am _here_. I refuse to be stupid again. My plan vasn't entirely fruitless, but less than I vanted. It looks like I _vill_ need to involve de people here. Dat means _you_, it seems."

"What were you even _doing_?" Harry questioned, "All I know is that you were attacked by a snake, I didn't see anything else."

"_See?_" Edward asked, perplexed, "You vere _dere_?"

"Well... no," Harry said, pulling a chair to the bedside, "That's... a long story. The simple explanation is... I think I'm seeing through Voldemort's eyes."

Edward raised a brow. "I'll take de long explanation, tank you," he said wryly.

"It's _really_ long, I'm warning you," Harry said, "But I guess it starts... on the day I was born."

* * *

><p>Edward felt particularly miffed. He had been outdone by a goddamned wizard with the muscle mass of a chewed up pencil. It was just intrinsically wrong that he had landed himself in the hospital, bleeding out, after a fight with a small, poisonous snake, and Harry had walked away triumphant from a duel with a <em>giant fucking basilisk<em> that he had to desperately avoided eye-contact with during the entire fight and was relatively conscious for the victory.

"Why are you pouting like that?" Harry questioned.

"...No reason, continue," Edward mumbled, _"*stupid wizard.*_"

"Right... third year, then?" Harry went on, "Well... hm, how to start this one? I guess with the big black dog I saw in my neighborhood that summer-"

_Creak._

Harry and Edward exchanged a panicked look and Harry quickly covered himself in his cloak, vanishing him from sight. Steps clicked against the floor, toward Edward's sectioned off part of the Hospital Wing and he laid down, closing his eyes, feigning sleep. The white curtain separating him and the rest of the room slid back sharply and the footsteps stopped by his bed.

"I _do_ hope you don't think you're fooling anyone, Elric," Severus' familiar voice sneered.

Edward was upright in record time. Severus stood there, looking rather worse for wear. He twitched shortly and frowned at the action, as if ashamed for the weakness.

"Severus," Edward said, then quickly realized something, "De books! I... I had books. Vhere did dey go? Vere dey vith me vhen you found me?"

"Lost so much?" Severus said with a raised brow, "You _did_ seem particularly out of it when I dragged you out of there. _Speaking_ of which, equivalent exchange, right? I saved your life-"

"De _books_, Severus."

"That's why I'm _here_, actually. They're in my office," Severus said, "You can-"

Severus stopped and cursed under his breath, his body tensing as he fought off a spasm of pain. Edward flinched in realization; this was his fault.

"Severus..."

"I'm fine," Severus snapped, straightening, "As soon as you are out of here we will study the books; together. You owe me that much, at least."

"Alright," Edward agreed, reluctantly. He cut himself off from an apology. Severus didn't want one.

"The Dark Lord is _most_ displeased," Severus said, "you left Greyback severely injured, and Nagini dead."

"They pissed me off," Edward said, frowning tightly, "especially the damn snake."

Severus rolled his eyes, though it was cut off by a sudden twitch.

"Don't you have... potion-y master-y things to do?" Edward said, waving Severus away.

"Fortunately for you," Severus said, with a slight trace of a smirk, "I _do_, actually."

"Lucky day," Edward said, grinning at the man.

Severus gave a curt nod and turned to leave, but then he stopped still, catching sight of something out of the corner of his eye. He made to move towards it, lifting a hand, but Edward spoke up.

"Leave it, Severus," Edward said plainly, giving him a pointed look.

Severus stiffened, eyes trained on where Harry stood under his invisibility cloak.

"For now, Edward," Severus said, narrowed eyes flicking to Edward, as his hand dropped, "For now we do things your way."

He turned on his heel and shut the curtain with a snap, briskly walking from the room. Left little time to think on Severus' visit, Harry roughly pulled the invisibility cloak from his person, glaring at Edward suspiciously.

"What was _that_?" He demanded.

"De man who saved my life," Edward said, raising a brow.

"You know that's not what I-" Harry paused, and then continued slowly, "He... saved your life?"

"Ja," Edward said, "Your tird year, den?"

"Wait," Harry said, "I've been doing all the talking so far and you haven't even answered my first question. What were you doing? Where were you that _Snape_ came and saved you?"

"Only fair, I guess." Edward said shrugging, "Ve _vill_ finish your story, however."

"We will," Harry consented, "but it's your turn to talk."

Edward paused before speaking, gathering his thoughts, and deciding what exactly should be told. He wanted the kid to trust him; it was likely the best way to know what's going on. From what Harry had been telling him, wherever Harry goes, trouble involving Riddle was soon to follow. Best way to get the most information on Riddle was to keep tabs on Potter. He didn't know exactly what the books he'd been able to snatch had in them, and it was best that he keep as many sources of information as possible.

There was also the matter of his newest plan; Operation Get Everybody's Heads Out of the Sand and Make Them Realize That Voldemort is Out Killing People. He'd outed a fraudulent priest manipulating an entire city with fake miracles and alchemy; he can do surely _this_. Harry Potter was the one to see Voldemort return, – hm, does getting the information willingly from Harry without coercion from Hermione count toward his deal with her? - so he would be a big part of that plan.

"Let us first say that I am, most certainly, an ally," Edward said, "I am no friend of Tom Riddle... and he is actually probably _really_ pissed dat I killed his snake, so... enemy, vould be more accurate it looks like. Dere _vas_ de whole _kidnapping'k_ me ting, as vell, but dat vas my idea, so I don't know if it actually counts towards being'k enemies..."

"You can start making sense at any time," Harry said with a frown.

"Ja, ja," Edward said, "Fine. So, Ally. I had a... plan. It involved getting kidnapped by Death Eaters. I vanted to get close to Riddle, and also to his base. Severus-"

"_Severus_, now that's just _weird_."

"-mentioned someting to me about him being interested in myself and de Philosopher's Stone, so I hatched dis plan."

"_Great_ plan."

"Shut up, Potter. You vant me to talk, you vill let me talk."

* * *

><p>"What was he <em>thinking?<em>" Hermione asked, appalled, "No, he _wasn't_ thinking, was he? He positively _couldn't_ have been."

"Have to admit, it's pretty wicked, though, 'Mione," Ron said, shrugging, "I don't even like the bloke, but that takes _balls._"

"Ronald!"

"I have to agree," Harry said, "Well... with both of you really. It was really brave, but also _really_ stupid."

"Harry," Hermione began, tears welling in her eyes, "He was _tortured._ He could have been _killed!_ And then... and then..."

Hermione's eyes took on a glassy look, and her mouth hung open slightly.

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance.

"Uh... 'Mione?" Ron said, waving his hand before her face.

"All is one and one is all!" She exclaimed suddenly, standing from her chair.

All eyes in the common room turned to her, as her expression turned giddy, and she squealed happily.

"_What?_" Harry asked.

"He could have _died_, Harry!" She exclaimed excitedly, "And what would have happened then? _All is one and one is all!_"

With that, she bounded from the common room, leaving a stunned and confused audience behind.

"She's officially gone mad, hasn't she?" Ron asked dazedly.

"I'm afraid so, Ron."

* * *

><p>Edward had never been so happy to walk into the classroom as he was the day he was released from the Hospital Wing. After his all night talk with Harry, he had been extremely displeased to discover that he was being forced to stay bed-ridden for the rest of the day. He didn't see <em>why<em>, he felt perfectly fine. Some bullshit about the blood replenishing potion having to finish its effects. At least it meant he didn't have to teach class.

This left him with the entire weekend to search through those books with Severus, and think on the word's he'd shared with Harry.

Not to mention it was a Hogsmeade weekend and he'd been invited to something _particularly _interesting.

"Mr. Elric," an elderly voice spoke from the door to the classroom.

Edward held back a curse. He had actually forgotten the existence of the old man entirely. It was hard not to forget him when he _wasn't telling him anything_. Ed turned his gaze to the Headmaster who looked at him disappointingly. Ed felt a twist in his stomach. Well, damn, he had _those_ eyes. Those disappointed, I'm going to make you feel guiltier than you ever have eyes.

"Vhat do you vant?" Edward asked, plopping down in the chair behind the desk and propping his feet up.

"You acted recklessly, Mr Elric," The old man said, "impatiently."

"Your point?" Ed deadpanned.

"My _point_, Mr. Elric, is that you cannot go off on your own so rashly!" Dumbledore chided, "If Severus had not-"

"But he _did_."

"A _moment _later-"

"But it _vasn't._"

"_Mr. Elric!_"

It was a shock hearing the Headmaster raise his voice and Edward was stunned into silence.

"Mr. Elric," Dumbledore began again, quietly, sadly, "I feel that this is my fault, what happened."

...What?

Edward looked up at the old man, perplexed.

"I should not have kept so much from you," the old wizard said, "I should have realized that you would act on your own like this. You wound up severely injured because you didn't know what you were getting yourself into. This is my shortcoming. It is time to rectify that error."

Edward eyed the man suspiciously.

"Vhat's the catch?" He asked.

"I am telling you this in the hopes that it will deter further action before the time for action has come," Dumbledore said, sagely, "There are things about Voldemort that I have not told you. Fourteen years ago-"

"He vas supposed to die," Edward said, "I know."

Dumbledore blinked.

"You... know?" He asked.

"Vell, _now_ I know," Edward said grumpily, "I vasn't just going to sit around, not knowing'k anyting. I got Harry to tell me everyting from de time Voldemort 'died' to de time he returned."

"_Harry?_" Dumbledore asked, brows nearly raising above his hairline.

Much to Edward's relief, Harry had informed him of Voldemort's state of being in the time of his absence. His soul remained in this world, it was simply that he had no body. It was similar, Edward supposed, to how Hohenheim had initially hypothesized that the body Father had was simply a 'leather bag', and Father would be gone when it was destroyed, yet when the leather bag was disposed of, Father was still very much _there_. Father had grown from his flask, no longer dependent upon it.

There was something that was doing the same for Voldemort, Edward had realized; something that kept his soul tethered to this plane. He may not have been in as corporeal a form as Father was without his body, but something held him together.

Edward was near giddy with all the things he knew now.

"I suppose I have been too late in my decision," Dumbledore said, "But, what of my apology? Will you take it?"

Edward looked at the old man strangely, before shrugging uncomfortably.

"Sure, vhatever," He said, "Harry is _really_ mad at you, you know?"

"...Yes, I am aware," Dumbledore said somberly, "If you knew that we did not believe Voldemort could be killed, why did you act as you did?"

"I... didn't really know dat yet," Edward said, looking away, "It was kind of de being attacked by Voldemort dat made Harry more inclined to trust me. I have only known this for about a day."

Edward laughed nervously.

"But, I cannot say if I vould have acted very differently," He said, "I may not have been able to get rid of Riddle just then, but I vanted to learn vhat I could, even now vith vhat I know, I am glad in my decision. Besides ... I know now dat he vants to know how to make a Philosopher's Stone."

Dumbledore furrowed his brow.

"Voldemort wanted the stone so that he could restore his body," The old man said, "Why would he still need it?"

"Power," Edward said, shrugging, "Vhat else? The Philosopher's Stone is an incredibly powerful ting. A... big enough stone... it could put you on the same field as _God_."

"That's... impossible!" Dumbledore exclaimed, "Surely-"

"Don't vorry about it," Edward said, waving it off, "It is not like I have any intention of _making _one, and as far as I am seeing, I am de only von in dis vorld who _can_... besides, perhaps, _you_."

Edward fixed the old man with a curious look. According to the book he had read, Albus Dumbledore had been the apprentice of Nicolas Flamel; this is likely why he so accurately pegged Ed as an alchemist when he first arrived. From what he knew, transmutation circles and the like _were_ used in this magic alchemy, though their design was quite different – using magic as the source of energy and also material.

It was horribly disappointing to Edward that Muggles hadn't discovered how to use alchemy. They were on the right track; especially with the research into the Odin-Force, which reminded him of the energy that Xingese Alkahestry used. However, they had been branded occult and the art died out before it even truly began. Perhaps it was a good thing, though, that they knew nothing of the thing that had caused Edward both all the pain and the passion in his life, or of the Gate.

Or Truth.

"I'm afraid I was never able to decipher Nicolas' notes," Dumbledore admitted, "He left them to me when he died, but he had never taught me the secret behind the Philosopher's Stone that he had created. Those notes hold all the secrets, though I have never been privy to them."

A horrible chill raced down his spine.

"You mean no von alive knows how de stone is created in dis vorld?" Edward asked quietly, bangs falling to hide his eyes.

"No, why?" Dumbledore asked.

"...It's nothing," Edward said, lifting his eyes to the Headmaster, the picture of nonchalance, "Do you tink I could take a look at his notes? Someting to keep me occupied and away from doing'k something stupid."

Dumbledore seemed to brighten at the prospect of keeping Ed out of trouble, eyes regaining the twinkle that had been absent for their conversation.

"Yes, of course, Mr. Elric," He said, "I'm sure if anyone was to understand them, it would very likely be you. I will bring them to you after you return from Hogsmeade tomorrow."

"Great, can't vait to get started," Edward said, enthusiastically – tone it down Elric, no need to be _too_ excited – "And what do you mean return from Hogsmeade?"

Dumbledore had already turned and was making his way to the door.

"Do try to stay out of _too_ much trouble, Mr. Elric," He said as he put a hand on the doorknob, "And do your best to keep your friends from it as well – Oh, Miss Granger, what a surprise!"

"All is one and one is all!" Edward jumped as Hermione's loud, enthusiastic voice blurted out the words. He looked up and saw Hermione just outside the door, turning a curious shade of red and looking up at Dumbledore.

"Headmaster!" She exclaimed, embarrassed, "I didn't – uh –"

"Quite alright, Miss Granger," The Headmaster said, "I really must be on my way; a fine evening to you both."

Hermione nodded, red-faced and shuffled into the room as the Headmaster left. Edward watched, amused, as she looked dazedly at the door as it closed behind the Headmaster.

"I take it you figured out vhat it means?" Edward asked, snapping her out of her daze. She spun to face him, a triumphant grin on her face.

"I am the one. _You _are the one. The world is the all," She said, "People live... and people die. It's the cycle of life. When we die we become nutrients for the earth, which in turn feed insects and animals, who then die to feed other animals and humans. We're just a tiny part of the rest of the world; just... one small human in the grand scheme."

Edward's expression seemed to soften sadly.

"Perfectly said, Hermione," Edward said.

He fixed her with a devilish grin.

"Now go run a lap around de grounds."

"..._What?_"

"You heard me. To train de mind, you must first train de body."

"But... the grounds are _huge!_"

Edward pulled out his pocket watch, checking it casually.

"Best get started if you vant to finish before curfew."

"But-"

"Go. Or do you not vant to learn alchemy?"

Hermione stubbornly set her jaw, glaring at Edward.

Edward stared back with a bored expression, making it as clear as possible that he was most definitely not joking.

Hermione's face fell and she muttered under her breath as she pulled out her wand and spoke a spell, transfiguring her uniform into sweats. With one last halfhearted glare at Edward she turned, and in a show of determination, ran from the room.

Edward snickered to himself as he stood, leaving the room himself and heading toward the dungeons.

* * *

><p><strong>Magick Moste Evile<strong>

The title was foreboding enough as it was, and Edward hardly had to read the first sentence to know that he didn't particularly want to know what was within. It was necessary, however. There were things in this book that might give a clue as to how to destroy Voldemort – leather bag and all.

He spent an hour reading the contents of the book carefully, growing sick at times, while Severus flipped through another book. In total he had taken four of the books, before he had fled the library. One lay discarded on the floor, having gone through it already, finding nothing of use. In the book he was currently reading, there were few notes in the margins. He came to a page that had only a few words between the lines.

_Connect the fragments, restore the body?_

Edward furrowed his brow, looking at the underlined word that the notes were written on top of.

"Severus..." Edward began, making the man look up from his own book curiously.

"Vhat's a Horcrux?"

* * *

><p>AN: Wow! 10 Chapters! I want to thank my wonderful Beta for putting up with me and the fact that we, quite literally, live on opposite ends of the world. I also want to thank all my reviewers, as well. It's really so amazing reading all your wonderful reviews. It's the best part of the day, and when I'm stressed or freaking out over college, finding a new review and reading it never fails to make me smile. Every one means so much to me and I thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

I just want to tell you all a little about the direction this story is going. It may already be clear that I'm not following the book. (Well, I hope it's clear at least... 'cause I'm pretty sure the horcrux thing gave that away) IMPORTANT: For the time being, there will be no pairings. I know that earlier I hinted at Al/Winry. I took that out, because I started thinking that even though the idea of Ed/Hermione is nice, I don't know if I'm actually going to do it. I never had anything against Ed/Winry in the first place, I just decided to cut off Amestris from the story. So this leaves me open with the option of later creating a pairing - though, this is by no means a pairing fic - but also the option of just keeping pairings out of it altogether until he's home and back with Winry. This is, however, a story/action/adventure fic. It is not romance, nor do I intend to change it to that. Therefore, it is likely that I end up just never even mentioning any pairing at all.

This fic will go on for a long time, however; so I don't know for sure what's going to happen.

My best to you all. I love you and your wonderful reviews.

Except that one flamer. That one flamer can go die in a fire. Didn't even have pm activated, the coward.

~Tak


	11. Chapter 11

**To Settle a Debt**

**Chapter 11**

* * *

><p>"A Horcrux?" Severus asked, standing from his desk and walking toward Edward. Edward was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a thick tome open in his lap.<p>

"'Of a Horcrux, vickedest of magical inventions, ve shall not speak nor give direction'," Edward said, holding the book up to Severus.

"'Connect the fragments, restore the body'," Severus muttered, reading over the sentence with a furrowed brow, "I'm afraid that I do not know. This is all it says in the entire book?"

"Not a vord more," Edward said with a frown, taking the book from Severus as he handed it back, "You've never heard of it before?"

"I have not," Severus said, "However, from the notation, it might have something to do with why the Dark Lord is still alive."

Edward grinned. It was relieving that he hadn't gone to all that trouble for nothing. This could even be the greatest thing he could have possibly discovered in this outing. Take _that_ Harry Potter and your damn Basilisk.

"So now ve need to figure out just vhat de hell a Horcrux is," Edward said, shutting the book, standing and tucking it under his arm, "Look trough dat last book, in case it has someting useful about Horcruxes. I'll be heading to de Library, maybe dat damn place vill haf someting useful after all."

"You're turning your v's into f's again," Severus said, giving Edward a pointed look and picking up the last book, "Not to mention you've never quite gotten the w's and th's right."

Edward didn't bother to resist the urge to stick his tongue out at Severus.

"Vhat does it matter?" Edward said, giving Severus a halfhearted glare, "Not vorth bottering o_f_er, anyvays."

"If we don't find anything about the Horcruxes, what then?" Severus asked, opening the last book. Edward gave a crooked grin and opened his mouth; Severus cut him off, "_Without_ getting kidnapped."

Edward's face fell into a scowl.

"Vell, who do ve know dat vould probably know vhat a Horcrux is?" Edward asked with a grimace, "Assuming he vould anser."

"I do not believe you will suffer for lack of information in the future," Severus said, "If we can find nothing else, Albus _would _be the one to know. We _should _simply ask him first, rather than go through all the books in the library."

"...Fine," Edward said, "_If _vecannot find anyting tonight, ve vill ask him _tomorrow_."

"Very well, Edward," Severus said.

Edward turned to leave the office, but then stopped by the door, realizing something. He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. He'd been here for almost two hours.

"Severus," Edward began, "I'm just... _curious_; about how long is the perimeter of the grounds here?"

"Excluding the forest?"

"Ja."

"About... four kilometers?" Severus said, looking up from the book, "Why?"

Oops.

"Hermione's probably done then..." Edward mumbled, nervously. He'd completely forgotten.

"Miss Granger is done with what?" Severus questioned with a cold look.

"...Nutting."

Edward swept from the room and fled into the halls before he could be questioned further. He hurried down the halls as he thought through what excuse he could give Hermione for not being there when she returned. He could twist it into some kind of lesson for her. Then again, he never really specified that she was supposed to come back to the classroom, so it was possible that she just went to bed...

Edward snorted as he rounded a corner. No, he had a feeling Hermione won't go to bed until she's dismissed and absolutely sure there's nothing left to learn for the night. It was a familiar mindset. Al had oft needed to force him to go to bed when there was something he was particularly set on.

And Hermione definitely seemed determined, he'll give her that.

Edward quickened his step to a light run, hurrying up from the dungeons to his own classroom four floors higher. He arrived just outside the classroom to find the door slightly ajar and voices from within. Edward furrowed his brow and strained to hear.

"Absolutely unacceptable," Umbridge's sickly voice chided, "Out _past curfew_. Tut, tut, _that_ will get you a week of detentions."

"I'm a _prefect_, and what exactly are _you_ doing here, Professor?" Hermione said in a calm, yet noticeably angry tone, "This isn't exactly your classroom, now is it?"

"_Two weeks_, Miss Granger," Umbridge said, "_Questioning_ a teacher. That is _none_ of your business."

"Is is, however, mine," Edward said, striding into the room, "Vhat are you doing here, _Professor_?"

"Professor Elric," Umbridge turned and looked at Edward with a sweet smile, "I heard that you had a _nasty_ experience in Diagon Alley. It's so... _good_ to see that you are well."

"I'm sure," Edward sneered, "_Vhat_ are you doing here?"

"Oh, _nothing_, really," Umbridge said, "I simply saw the lights on in the classroom, and I find Miss Granger here, out after curfew."

"Ja, and dat is no reason to give her detention," Edward said with a frown, "She is here serving detention vith _me_."

"_Regardless_ of her reasons for being here," Umbridge said, "She _spoke back_ to a teacher. Completely unacceptable."

"By asking you vhy you vere here?" Edward asked, "Even _you_ have to admit dat's unreasonable. No, vait, don't anser dat."

"I refuse to be spoken to in this manner!" The woman said with a huff, "Your days here are numbered_, Alchemist. _The Minister will see to it that this school is run _properly_, and that means incompetent _children_ such as-"

Edward had had just about enough of Dolores Umbridge. With a growl he stepped into her personal space – holding back a gag at the smell of her perfume – and hissed in her ear.

"You haf about fife seconds to get de _hell_ out of my classroom, ja?"

The woman stumbled back and fixed Edward with an unnerving look. Her eyes snapped to Hermione.

"Detention, one week," She said before brushing past Edward toward the door, "Get to your dormitory. Detention is no excuse to keep a student past curfew, _Professor_."

As the door shut loudly Hermione slumped against the desk, eyes drooping tiredly.

"Merlin, my lungs are still _burning_," She said, then fixed Edward with an accusing stare, "Where were you?"

"I got a bit preoccupied, I'm sorry," Edward said, truthfully, "You should get some rest, ja? Ve vill start tom – Sunday. Ja, Sunday is good."

"There's nothing you can give me to do before then?" She asked with wide, hopeful eyes.

"Vell..." Edward said, "How about dis?"

Edward strode to the blackboard and picked up a piece of chalk, beginning to write in his messy scrawl on the board.

_Fundamentals of Alchemy_

_Transmutation is broken into three steps:_

_Comprehension: __Understanding the inherent structure and properties of the atomic or molecular makeup of a particular material to be transmuted, including the flow and balance of potential and kinetic energy within._

Edward paused in his writing and looked back at Hermione. Seeing her furiously copying the words to parchment, he continued.

_Deconstruction: Using energy to break down the physical structure of the identified material into a more malleable state so as to be easily reshaped into a new form._

_Reconstruction: Continuing the flow of energy so as to reform the material into a new shape._

Edward finished and put down the chalk, turning back to Hermione.

"I vant you to memorize dat," Edward said, "And von more ting."

Edward fixed her with a serious look, making sure she was paying full attention.

"You cannot gain anyting, vithout first giving someting in return," Edward said, eyes distant as he recalled past pains this law had brought to him; this law he had so foolishly broken, "To obtain, someting of equal value must be lost. Dat is alchemy's first law of equivalent exchange. In dis, human transmutation is strictly forbidden. Not forbidden like your damned forest, but I vant you to tink: vhat is vorth a human soul?"

Hermione nodded hesitantly and Edward looked at her sharply.

"Do not forget dis!" He snapped, "To break dis law is to seek your death!"

Hermione flinched in surprise at his tone. She looked at him searchingly for a moment. With a grim expression, she nodded.

"I understand," She said, picking up the notes she had just written and standing with a pained expression, "Ugh... I hurt everywhere..."

"Ja," Edward said matter-of-fact, "Did you stretch before and after you ran? You'll be sore all day tomorrow if you didn't."

Hermione sent him a vicious glare.

"No," She said through grit teeth.

"You should have," Edward said with a crooked grin, "Speaking of vhich; I vant you to do de same tomorrow morning and de next day. You vill come see me in de afternoon on Sunday, after lunch, ja?"

"But-"

"To train de mind you must first train de body," Edward recited with an evil smile, "Now go to bed."

Hermione pouted and painstakingly picked up her pack, slowly retreating from the room. With one last backward glare she walked out into the halls, the door falling shut loudly behind her. With a sigh Edward patted the book under his arm, picked up a blank notebook from his desk and left the room.

"_*Time to get started.*_"

* * *

><p>A sleepless night and he found nothing. He found another copy of Magick Moste Evile in the Restricted Section of the library, but there wasn't a single other book that he found that gave mention to a Horcrux. This left Edward to wonder; what could possibly be so horrible that a book about the evilest of magics would only skirt the topic, and no other dared even mention the word? He had struck gold here, he just needed to find a way to get at it.<p>

Morning found him furiously searching through one last book as Madam Pince stood over him, tapping her foot and face going red with his ignoring of her. From the small bits of her words that he caught, he was being chastised for breaking into the library at night. She was also particularly miffed about his response.

"I'm busy, Frau; go avay."

"_Professor_ Elric," She said evenly, "You broke the lock on the door, and have been in here all night. It's a mess in here! I'm sure whatever you are looking for did not warrant such behavior."

"I can fix it," Edward said irritably, snapping the book shut when it provided nothing useful, much like the last fifty.

"_That_ is not the point," Madam Pince said with pursed lips, "It's already fixed, thank you. For Merlin's sake, fix this mess and go get some sleep."

"No time for sleep, Frau Pince," Edward said, standing and stretching his aching shoulders, "Got to run; things to do, people to see."

With that he fled the library, shrill tones following him out.

"Wait! Pick up this mess!"

"Maybe later!" Edward called back with a grin as he hurried down the hall. He certainly did have things to do and people to see today. He checked his pocket watch; it was about breakfast time, so the students would be heading out to Hogsmeade in about an hour. His stomach growled in protest as he headed for his rooms and he spun on his heel, turning back in the other direction.

A solid meal wouldn't hurt.

As he tread the halls he let his mind try to piece together what he could. 'Connect the fragments, restore the body?' is what the note in that book said. They had already guessed that it had something to do with how Voldemort hadn't died, by the fact that it seemed whatever it was, Riddle had it, and they thought doing something with it - 'connecting the fragments?' - would restore his body.

Now, what about the fragments part? Perhaps the device was split into pieces, and separated, for security's sake? It was possible. That would mean a possible journey across the whole damn world looking for the pieces, if it came to that. From what Harry had told him, they didn't use this Horcrux, whatever it was, to bring Riddle back in the end. Perhaps it just didn't work as they might have thought, or maybe the method they used was easier.

There was a lot he could assume, but he wouldn't know for sure until he found a book – or something – that knew what a Horcrux is, and how it might be involved in Riddle's continued survival and seeming immortality.

Edward shuddered at the thought. He could just about understand Truth's anger at the man. He would be all-too-happy to rid this world of a fool who would play God.

The man had also gone through the possibility of using the Philosopher's Stone to restore his body, much like Edward himself had, he thought with a shudder. He almost had his hands on it, too. However, Harry's intervention stopped him from getting it, and afterward it had been destroyed. Speaking of the stone, Edward didn't like where this was leading him, but he needed to know how they made it in this world. There was not a man alive in this world that knew how to create a stone, and that didn't seem to sit right.

Edward came to the staff entrance to the Great Hall and pushed it open in his customary fashion. No one batted an eyelash as the door banged against the wall and he strode in, well used to his entrances by now. Edward noticed that Umbridge was absent from the seat to Severus' left, where she usually sat, and snatched it only just before the woman herself came walking in. He gave her a triumphant grin, resting his head on a fist with a smug look that he liked to call 'The Mustang'.

"Poking the bear..." Severus muttered from his right. It only served to brighten his eyes.

Giving Edward a triumphant grin of her own, she sat down on his left, casting him surreptitious glances every few moments. Edward furrowed his brow in confusion. She seemed far too smug.

"How is your research coming?" Severus asked, breaking his line of thought, "I'm afraid I wasn't able to find what you were looking for."

Edward made the connection and scowled, stabbing his fork into an unfortunate egg.

"Not so vell," He said, "Vitout vhat I asked you for dere is little I can do. I vill need to consult an expert, it seems."

"How... unfortunate," Severus said. Edward didn't have to look to know a small smirk spread across the man's face. He seemed to like being right.

"Definitely dat," Edward mumbled.

He didn't like the idea of going to the old man for information. It had proved exceptionally irritating in the past. Maybe, this time, since what had happened, the old man will decide to trust him. This also involved telling Dumbledore that he had found something when he had been kidnapped, which he refrained from doing earlier, and it seemed Severus did as well. Hell, Severus even made a point to stash the books in a warded case.

People were beginning to leave the Great Hall, brimming with excitement. Hogsmeade weekends were apparently a big deal. They would be, Edward supposed. Being cooped up in this place, magnificent though it was, was certainly jitter inducing. Harry was putting together some kind of Defense Club and they were meeting with everyone interested at the Hog's Head; an inn, apparently. It was all Hermione's idea, Harry had said.

Edward glanced down at said girl as she rose from her own seat with a grimace. Ed allowed himself a short laugh at her expense, and, as if somehow knowing she was being mocked, her eyes snapped toward him. She glared at him shortly before turning and following her friends out of the hall.

"I'm afraid, however, it vill have to vait," Edward said, standing, "I have otter tings to do today. I von't be able to get in contact vith an expert just now."

"Shame," Severus said, giving Edward a pointed look, "I am _quite_ curious about your research, however. Do tell me when you contact this expert."

"I vill," Edward said, walking from the table, "Have a good day, Severus."

Edward decided to leave through the main door to the hall, following the students as they headed out. As he left the Great Hall a group of students circled around a wall hanging caught his attention. He glanced at it briefly, then did a double take as the words soaked in.

_Proclamation_

_Educational Decree_

_No. 23_

_Dolores Jane Umbridge _

_has been_

_appointed to_

_the post of_

_Hogwarts_

_High_

_Inquisitor_

Edward stared at the paper in unmasked horror, as did many students gathered around it. The woman had been given _power_? Edward grit his teeth and debated the merits of going back into the Great Hall and punching in that woman's smug face. With his right hand. He was surprised the woman didn't make a huge deal about the whole thing at breakfast. She seemed the type to play up her own importance. The woman even wore this locket at all times that apparently had to do with the purity of her lineage.

The toad was getting on his last nerve.

Edward resisted the urge to act on his impulse of punching the woman in the face, setting his jaw stubbornly and continuing on through the halls, following scattered groups of students hurrying out of the castle. As he stepped outside he found the path toward the gate lined with carriages, pulled by strange, horse-like creatures. They were skeletal, with leathery black wings; rather creepy if you asked him. They reminded him of a chimera and the thought never failed to send a chill down his spine and a twist to his gut.

Edward caught sight of Harry climbing into a carriage, eyes lingering on the things pulling it, and Hermione following after. Edward quickened his step and got to the same carriage just as it began moving, hoisting himself over the back and landing on the seat with a grin.

"Mind if I join you?" He asked, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back in his seat.

"Do we have a choice?" Ron mumbled, slumping in his seat beside Hermione, glancing her way briefly. Harry and Hermione, in contrast, smiled in welcome. It was going to be a lot easier around here with Harry trusting him. He still wasn't so sure about the old man just yet and keeping Harry in his sights was sure to get him caught in the crossfire at some point.

"Edward," Hermione greeted, "Are you chaperoning?"

Edward snorted.

"God, no," He said, giving them a pointed look, "I'm here for de same reason you are."

Ron looked like he was about to choke.

"You _told_ him?" Ron asked, incredulous, "Why the bloody hell did you tell _him_?"

"We can trust him," Harry said with finality, "By the way. You're a part of the... well you know; do you know where Hagrid is?"

"De... _really_ big guy?" Edward asked, motioning upward with his hand, "Ja, I know."

A moment of silence.

"Well... can you tell us?" Harry prompted impatiently.

Edward gave him a long look.

"Dis is hardly de place," Edward said, "You're going to have to learn to be more discreet."

"What would you know about being discreet?" Ron said, rolling his eyes, "You slam every door open so hard everyone in the bloody castle knows when you enter a room."

"I have learned a thing or two about keeping my mouth shut vhen it needs to be shut," Edward said, fixing the red head with a glare.

They reached Hogsmeade without incident and left the carriage. Edward noticed Harry looking at the creatures curiously again, a slightly worried and disturbed expression on his face.

"Creepy tings, aren't dey?" Edward said, elbowing Harry out of his stupor. The boy stared at him for a second before realizing something.

"You can see them!" He exclaimed, "I'm not crazy!"

Edward furrowed his brow.

"No, I'm pretty sure you're crazy," He said, "The hell are you so surprised for? They're pretty hard to miss."

"Ed..." Hermione said hesitantly, "There's nothing there. There's never been anything there. The carriages pull themselves."

"Luna _and_ Edward see them, too," Harry said hotly, "I _know_ what I see! Black skeletal horses with leathery wings, right Edward?"

Edward looked at the trio incredulously. He glanced at the creatures briefly; yeah, still there. He knew what he was seeing, so why couldn't these two see them as well?

"Dat sounds about right," Edward said, daring so much as to poke one of said creatures, earning a huff and stomp of hooves.

"See!" Harry said, waving his hands wildly in Edward's direction.

"No, mate, we _don't_ see," Ron said with an odd look.

"Look, we can argue about this later," Hermione cut in, "We have to get to the Hog's Head."

"Fine," Harry said with a huff, then continued to mumble, "But I _know _what I see..."

The group walked into the small town and Edward found himself watching the horse-like creatures as he walked away. The trio led him to a small, seedy looking inn and walked towards the back of the place. Edward glanced around the establishment, nothing the four people sitting in around the establishment and a woman looked at them curiously from behind the bar. The group huddled in the back corner, Harry shifting nervously, eyes scanning everyone around the bar.

"It'll be _fine_, Harry," Hermione reassured.

Slowly but surely, students began to arrive, gathering in the back around them all, some curiously glancing at Edward, others questioning loudly, to be silenced by Hermione's chiding tone asking patience. As the last of the students arrived, Harry took a deep breath and began to speak.

* * *

><p>AN: Hem, hem. Umbridge is a bitch. She will get what's coming to her.


	12. Chapter 12

**To Settle a Debt**

**Chapter 11**

* * *

><p>"Dat's a <em>really<em> stupid idea," Edward said, looking at the piece of paper in his hand incredulously.

"What's so stupid about it?" Ginny said, snatching the paper and holding against her chest defensively.

"_Dumbledore's Army?,_" Edward questioned hotly, "Vhat if Umbridge got her hands on dat paper? Dat's exactly vhat your damn Minister is afraid of! He'll come down on de old man like a hammer. I mean _really_, it's not like a damn _sign up sheet_ vent around de bastard's office titled 'Mustang's Team to Overtrow de Fuhrer.' Dat's just _stupid_."

The group looked at him blankly.

"...Mustang's team to do _what_?" Hermione asked, recognizing the name from a story or two Edward had told back at Grimmauld place.

"...Never mind, pick a different name," Edward said.

"Fine," Ginny said with a huff, "What do _you_ think, _Professor_?"

"De... Awesome... Club..."

Silence.

Ron broke into hysterical laughter.

"Shut up, you asshole!" Edward growled, swinging a fist in Ron's direction, making the red head let out an undignified 'eep' and stumble back, falling on his ass.

"How about we just write 'DA'," Harry suggested, "It won't actually say Dumbledore's Army, but we'll know what it is. _If _Umbridge gets her hands on it and busts us we can just say it means 'Defense Association'. Everyone's happy."

Harry glanced at the girl, Cho Chang, who was a remaining Ravenclaw in one of Edward's classes, and the one to suggest 'Defense Association', and gave her a nervous smile.

"Vhat's vrong vith 'De Awesome Club'?"

"Everything," The trio and Ginny deadpanned simultaneously as Ron pulled himself to his feet.

A few in the group snickered to themselves and Edward frowned, slumping in his chair and looked away. All in all the idea was a solid one. They certainly weren't going to learn how to defend themselves in their Defense Against the Dark Arts class with the pink monstrosity. Harry knew he was a Muggle, but it was good that he had told him about this. He could even teach them a few good ways to land a fist in a Death Eater's face. Really, what were these people going to do if they lost their wand in a fight?

"Alright," Harry said, "Everyone come up and sign your name on the paper."

One by one the students all signed their names on the piece of paper titled 'DA', if a little hesitantly. Hermione spoke up.

"After you sign your name come take one of these," Hermione held up what looked like a galleon for all to see, "It's a fake, enchanted galleon. When it heats up that means you have a message. We'll use them to tell you where and when we're meeting, it will appear on the surface of the coin. It's too risky to just tell everyone verbally."

Smart girl, Edward thought with a small grin. The students all took a galleon, studying it curiously.

"When we find a good place to conduct meetings, we'll tell you through that," Harry said, "Until then, keep that galleon close."

As the students left the establishment, Edward hung back. Hermione had just slipped out the door and Ed glanced at the veiled 'witch' with the particularly hairy and masculine hand that he had caught brief sight of. Dumbledore _had_ implied that he knew about the meeting, Edward thought with a scowl.

"Are you coming, Ed?"

Hermione's voice came from the half-way opened door and he looked over to see her poking her head in from outside.

"Ja," Edward said, brushing past the veiled person sitting at the bar purposefully, and following Hermione out into the town.

* * *

><p>Edward played with the galleon in his hand, turning it over and around, studying the charmed piece of metal. This magic truly fascinated him. There were certain things that alchemy could easily do that were quite similar to magic, however, there were then things, like what he held in his hand now, that defied the bounds of science. Although, this magic isn't bound by equivalence; there's no telling what could be done. It's much like how no one <em>really<em> knew everything the Philosopher's Stone was capable of. Father had made a star in the palm of his hand. It's possible that the thing even worked just like magic.

It was an interesting thought, at least; however chill-inducing it was to think of the power of the Philosopher's Stone.

Edward's head snapped up and he slipped the galleon in his pocket as a sharp knock came to his door.

"Ja?" He called.

Dumbledore came striding into the room, a stack of thick notebooks in his arms. He set them down on Edward's desk with a smile and a twinkle in his eyes.

"These are all of Nicolas' notes on alchemy," Dumbledore said, "I'm afraid I don't know where the ones on the Philosopher's Stone might begin."

Edward stared at the impressive stack of notes.

Nowhere near as tall as Marcoh's, Edward thought with a grin. It would take him no time at all to get through it all.

"Tanks, old man," Edward said, pulling down the notebook on the top of he pile, flipping it open.

"The notes seemed to be hidden in-"

Edward barked a laugh, putting a hand over his mouth to stop more from bubbling forth.

"Recipes," He said, "I tink dat dis vill take even less time dan I tought."

"Oh?" Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eyes, "Then I wish you luck. A lovely woman told me that you have taken it upon yourself to look after a few of the students. Do try to keep them out of trouble."

"Lovely voman, my ass," Edward snorted, waving the Headmaster away, "Ja, ja, I'll keep dem out of trouble to de _best_ of my ability."

"I hope you do," The old man said, giving him a pointed look before turning toward the door.

"Oh, vait," Edward said with a frown, "Dere is von more ting I must ask."

Dumbledore turned back to him, fixing him with a curious stare.

"Vhen I vas... kidnapped," Edward began, "I searched de mansion-"

"And barely escaped with your life-"

"And several books," He finished.

"Books, you say?" Dumbledore said, looking down his nose at Edward, "You didn't mention this before."

"I didn't tink it vas vorth mentioning," Edward said.

"And now you do."

"Ja," Edward said, "In von of de books v – _I_ came across a particular term dat seemed significant. De book didn't elaborate, and novhere I looked vas any more helpful. Do you know vhat a Horcrux is?"

Dumbledore's eyes widened and in the next second took on a sad glint.

"I had always feared..." He said solemnly, "But to know that he has truly gone so far..."

Edward leaped to his feet, knocking his chair back in the process.

"So you know vhat it is!" He asked frantically, "Vhat is it? Does it have to do vith vhy he is alive?"

"Yes, Mr. Elric, it does," Dumbledore said, "Magick Moste Evile correctly describes it as the evilest and most vile of all magical inventions. I'm afraid this is a discussion for another time... and another place. You will know when. I ask that you be patient-"

"Fuck patience!" Edward growled, "Ve're _on_ to someting here! Someting ve vould not have known if not for _my_ action, old man! Generally, dat means ve _do_ someting about it!"

"Still, this is _no_ place, Mr. Elric," Dumbledore said, "Please, I ask you to trust my judgment for now. I wish simply to check up on something. I will call an Order meeting and we will _all_ discuss this."

"You are getting on my _last_ nerve, old man!" Edward hissed, "You have a _day_ before I am tearing down your damn door and forcing de answers from your _troat_!"

"Never again did we ask about your arm or leg, Mr. Elric."

Edward froze, shock cutting through to the forefront of his mind. The incident had been long forgotten, by both parties, he had thought. A sudden ache in his jaw reminded him the pain he had inflicted upon himself to stop the words that desperately attempted to flow forth.

"You are of an entirely different world. You have given your explanations and your reasons for being here, but still we know nothing about you," Dumbledore said sagely, "What did you get from the deal with Truth? Why does the Philosopher's Stone horrify you so? Don't try to hide it now, you did not do so well before. Why are you in the military of your country? There is a terrible secret you hide behind that arm and that leg, I know. I have stayed my curiosity, and the curiosity of _others_, however, for the greater purpose here. In the beginning of this all I asked that we share trust. Against all rhyme and reason I am trusting you with the most important thing; my students. I ask only that you show me the same trust I am putting in you."

With that, Dumbledore swept from the room, leaving Edward, staring stunned at the recently vacated spot on the floor, thoroughly chastised.

A surge of anger bubbled within him and with a growl his metal fist splintered the wood of his desk.

* * *

><p><em>Proclamation<em>

_Educational Decree_

_No. 24_

_All Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded. An Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students. Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge). No Student Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor. Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.(1)_

The first of many, Hermione thought with a grimace. She doubted this would effect the resolve of those who signed up for the DA, and if anyone was fool enough to turn them in, they would know. The jinxed paper would make sure of that. With a frown, Hermione turned away from the poster, heading into the great hall, much to he protest of her sore muscles and joints. Today was the day she would finally be able to begin learning alchemy from Ed. She glanced at the head table, finding Edward's seat empty.

Well, Edward's new seat, anyway. It seemed that he decided to switch with Umbridge (to her approval or not) and sit beside their dour Potions Master. Umbridge sat a seat away from Snape, leaving her old seat vacant, seeming unperturbed by the whole event, and downright basking in her new-found power. Hermione didn't know how she had found out about the DA, but there was no other explanation for that decree to be put into effect. Hermione's eyes scanned the hall, lingering on all those who signed up for the DA, finding that her jinx effected none.

She must have had a spy in the Hog's Head, Hermione realized, walking toward the Gryffindor table and her friends. The Ministry's interference was becoming most unnerving, and Harry still refused to tell anyone about his detentions, or his nightmares. He was deciding to trust Ed, and he wont even tell him. It might come to Hermione taking things into her own hands.

She was uneasy about the idea. The last time she had done such a thing out of care for her friend, she had been shunned for weeks.

She didn't regret it, though.

The day couldn't pass quickly enough and Hermione was giddy with anticipation as she walked down the halls to Edward's classroom, her mind spinning around the words she had memorized over the past two days. She repeated the process of transmutation in her mind over and over. In the background flowed the law of equivalent exchange and the idea of all is one and one is all. Her head in the clouds, she opened the door.

She screamed and dropped to the floor as a leg came flying toward her face.

"Quick von, aren't you?" Edward's accented voice flowed from above her.

"Ed!" She exclaimed, looking up to find said man grinning down at her.

"But dat is no vay to dodge," He continued, undisturbed.

In a flash of light his metal arm sprouted a blade and the point was at her throat. She stared up in shock, unable to comprehend what the hell was going on, hardly following the movement of his lips as he continued to speak.

"Dodging in such a vay, especially vith how you ducked your head, leaves you completely vulnerable. Vere dis a real fight, you vould be dead," Edward said, "Get up."

Hermione scrambled to her feet, a step back from the blade protruding from Ed's wrist.

"I thought you were going to teach me alchemy!" She said, a hand on her chest in an attempt to steady her racing heart.

"Vhen I strike vertically, I vant you to sidestep, to de outside vould be best," Edward went on, "Vhen I strike horizontally, you _vill_ vant to duck, or dodge back, if my reach isn't further dan you can step in time. Do not unbalance youself, however.-"

"You're not even going to answer me!"

"-Vhen a person strikes, dey are at deir most vulnerable, you must take de opportunity and strike, turn deir own energy and force against dem."

Realization struck.

"You _are_ teaching me alchemy."

"Vhat _else_ vould I be doing?" Edward asked, a frustrated look on his face, letting the bladed arm fall to his side, "I svear, you people and your ridiculous teaching metods. You don't even know vhat a _proper _lesson is. Now, recite vhat I taught you before."

Hermione nodded in determination, walking into the room as Edward turned and made his way toward the front of the classroom. Hermione noticed that all the desks were pushed to the side. With a sudden thought, she shut the classroom door. When she turned back around she gasped as she found herself staring at the point of Edward's blade.

"Do not turn your back to de enemy," He said, with a half grin, "Speak."

"The Fundamentals of Alchemy," She recited, "The first step is comprehension: understanding and – EEEEK!"

The blade came down vertically, and her mind worked without her consent or comprehension, forcing her body to sidestep to the left. She had a split second to stare in shock at the blade and cry "Are you absolutely _mad_?" before it slashed out at her again, horizontally this time. This time she followed her own train of thought; she bent at the knees – most vulnerable when attacking – the blade sailed over her head, and throwing caution to the wind she pushed herself forward, attempting to tackle Edward. He seemed surprised at her initiative, but dodged effectively to the left, leaving Hermione tumbling forward, completely unbalanced.

"Did I tell you to stop talking?" Edward taunted smugly.

She looked up to find him settling in a defensive stance.

"Start again."

It took her about an hour to get through the whole thing, dodging the blade, fist, and foot and attempting to strike back. His movements seemed sluggish and unnatural and she knew if she were really fighting him, she would be long dead.

It was a sobering thought.

She was breathing heavily and her body ached by the end, when she finally got through the whole transmutation process and the law of equivalent exchange without stopping; even for a second, when a blade flew toward her heart. She laid on her back on the floor, the coolness of the stone refreshing against her burning limbs.

"You're stronger than me, I get it," She breathed, "I can't strike back like this."

"It is not strengt dat vill let you vin," Edward said, crouching at her side, "It is knowledge. As I said, you must turn my own power against me. It is technique dat vill do dis. Just so is de basis of alchemy. You must take the energy of de eart and redirect it. De transmutation circle is vhat vill direct it. De circle itself is a conduit vhich focuses and dictates de flow of power, tapping into de energies dat already exist vittin de eart and matter. It represents de cyclical flow of de vorld's energies and phenomena and turns dat power to manipulable ends.(2)"

Edward moved away, pulling a piece of chalk from his pocket and she heard it scratching upon the floor. With great effort, she sat up and dragged herself to sit beside Edward as he finished drawing a perfect circle. He then drew a triangle within and a smaller triangle with its point in the opposite direction of the first. He tapped the floor when it was done.

"De stone, vhat is it made of?" Edward asked.

"It's granite, right?" Hermione said, and Edward nodded, "It's good, sturdy stone, so it probably has a high concentration of quartz and a lower concentration of mica and feldspar; SiO2, H2KAl3(SiO4)3, the mica is probably Muscovite, and probably KAlSi3O8 with NaAlSi3O8 is the feldspar, you can see he lines here. (3)"

Edward looked at her with a bemused expression.

"You clearly did more dan just read de notebook," He said, shaking his head, "I didn't go into near so much detail."

"There's a section of the library that has some Muggle books," Hermione said with a blush, "I wasn't going to go into this blind. I took an Earth Science class when I was ten, as well. I've never really lost interest in Muggle science. I've always liked it, and even with magic I haven't stopped studying Muggle things."

"Good," Edward said with a nod, "Den ve can just continue vith de flow of energy; vith luck you vill be able to take down a man twice your size vith dis idea as vell..."

* * *

><p>Edward had been able to bottle his anger for the day of working with Hermione. It was quite easy, in fact, to forget his frustrations when he was talking about alchemy. He certainly made a thick impression, if nothing else, with his first lesson. He was surprised by her knowledge of chemistry, but supposed he couldn't have expected anything less from the girl with a seemingly encyclopedic mind. Why should it stop at magical knowledge?<p>

After he finished the lesson with instruction to practice drawing a perfect circle, Edward tried to immerse himself in Flamel's notes, but wasn't able to concentrate on the words. His angers returned to him as he sat, stewing over his inaction. This time he even _had_ something to act on. Edward tried to shake it and focus on decoding the notes. He had spoken to Severus the night before, who informed him that they had never fooled Dumbledore in the first place, and he had been thoroughly chided as well for hiding the possession of the books from the old man.

It was disconcerting how much the Headmaster knew of the goings-on in this school and the Wizarding World as a whole. The Horcruxes aside, there were likely many things he knew that no one else did. Edward scowled at the thought of his discovery. Dumbledore could have at least told him what the things were, but _no_, he was expected to be _patient_. _Again_.

Okay, so he didn't actually do it last time, but that worked out pretty damn well.

It was almost a month into the school year now. It was a strange thought, that he was gone completely from his own world for all this time, and no one would be able to find him if they tried. Unless they were stupid and called either Mustang or Teacher. Edward's gut twisted for a moment.

Oh, God.

Teacher was going to _kill _him when he got home. Making a deal with Truth?

...A second time? Wait, no, this would be a third time...

Fear should be his first thought, but all he could do was smile. It was nice to remember, occasionally, that everyone waited for him. It was even nice to think of Teacher's foot painfully meeting his face and Winry's wrench striking his head, even a bone-crushing, shirtless hug from Armstrong would be welcome.

Wait, retract that last statement. That would never, under any circumstances, be welcome.

Edward jerked in surprise as his fireplace flared to life, green light dancing across the room. He stood and walked to the fire, staring down into it as a voice met his ears.

"Meeting in twenty minutes," The old man's voice said.

The fireplace settled and Edward hurried to grab some floo powder – there was honestly enough enchanted items and such to let even a Muggle perform great feats without actually use of magic – and throwing it into the fireplace, making it roar once more. He stepped in and called out.

"Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place."

* * *

><p>Sirius sat at the table as voices swelled around him, catching a word here or there. No one seemed to know what the meeting was about and dreaded the worst, yet hoped for the best. With the way things were going lately, Sirius was inclined to believe the former. No significant moves had been made by either party. The Ministry still restricted Dumbledore's actions, keeping his hands tied. Tonks, Remus, and Kingsley were the only ones to have contact with Edward since he had left, to <em>teach<em>, they'd been told, and they didn't have much to say except how effective he was against the Death Eaters.

Any other information about Ed would have had to come from Dumbledore, McGonagall, or Snape; none of which seemed overly eager to speak. When Moody had returned to the house, quite worse for wear, he had said not a word about Edward or the incident, though Molly was eager to bring it up. Still, the man's lips were firmly sealed, leading Sirius to believe he had been told something about Edward to keep them that way. All this not knowing was going to drive Sirius insane, or at least make him gray.

Speak – or think in this case – of the devil and he shall come; Edward stepped into the room. Tonks greeted him cheerfully, Remus politely. With a grin, Sirius waved the boy over and he complied, coming to sit beside him.

"Been a while, hasn't it?" Sirius said, clapping a hand on his shoulder, "How have you been? How's Harry?"

"Ja, it has," Edward said, nodding, "I am vell. Harry is, also."

"Wonderful!" Sirius said, smiling, "You happen to know what this meeting is about?"

Edward seemed to be eying Moody in the corner, who responded in kind. He glanced at Sirius out of the corner of his eye as he responded.

"Ja," Edward said, and he seemed to be slightly frustrated, "I know; it's about someting I found vhen I had been captured."

"...When you were _what_?" Sirius exclaimed.

"Dumbledore didn't tell anyone?" Edward said, then waved a hand dismissively, "Never mind, I believe dat. It doesn't matter how I found dis information; I found it. It has to do vith Riddle, and vhy he's not dead. Possibly a vay to rectify dat error."

Sirius held back a gasp. A way to end it all. The thought was so striking and incredible that he thought if he wasn't already sitting he would have fallen to his knees. It was an overwhelming feeling. The possibility of freedom, of the end to this fight, and for him to finally be able to be the family that Harry needs. The greatest was knowing the Harry would be free as well.

"Really?" Sirius breathed.

"Ve hope," Edward said, nodding, "De old man vas being all evasive about it tough; I don't tink dis is going to be easy."

Sirius frowned, mood darkening considerably.

"When is it ever?" He murmured somberly.

"In my experience?" Edward said, "Never."

The door opened once more and Dumbledore made his appearance. Silence fell as he walked into the room, garnering the attention of all in attendance. Under his arm he carried a book and Sirius strained his eyes to read the title.

**Secrets of the Darkest Art**

* * *

><p>AN: Whooo, I missed Sirius...

(1) Pretty much word for word - book

(2) http:/ fma . wikia / wiki / Alchemy

(3) Granite is a stone made majorly of quartz, with some mica and feldspar. It's weaknesses are, in fact, the later two, as feldspar makes the rock more susceptible to decomposition by the potash solution within it (Potassium Based Salt), and the mica is easily decomposed itself as well - you know what? look it up.


	13. Chapter 13

**To Settle a Debt**

**Chapter 13**

* * *

><p><strong>Secrets of the Darkest Art<strong>

"This," Dumbledore began, holding the book for all to see, "is a book of the most evil magic you may ever come across. It is also the only book to dare speak of the creation of what is called a Horcrux."

Moody sucked in a breath in shock. Edward glanced at him briefly, wondering what could have caused such a reaction from the man. Clearly the man knew what a Horcrux was.

"Surely, you don't mean..." Moody began.

"I do," the old wizard said, nodding solemnly, "I believe that Voldemort has created a Horcrux."

"Merlin," Moody breathed. "So that's how he survived."

"It may be, indeed," Dumbledore said.

"I don't understand," Remus spoke up from Sirius' other side. "What's a Horcrux?"

"Yes, I imagine not many would know of the invention," Dumbledore said, "It is a most evil creation; one that very few would dare research let alone attempt to create. Those that have been created in all of wizarding history may be counted on one hand. This includes … Grindelwald."

"Out vith it, already, old man," Edward growled, "I didn't risk my neck for dat information for you to keep stalling like dis!"

Dumbledore fixed him with a disapproving stare, which Edward matched with a vicious, impatient glare. The old man sighed heavily.

"Very well," He said nodding, "It was you who made this discovery possible; I thank your patience to this point."

Edward scoffed at the old man's attempt to placate him.

"A Horcrux is, in essence, a fragment of one's soul," Dumbledore explained. "The soul is split and part of it is placed within an object, or even another living being; so long as the Horcrux exists, the owner cannot die. Not entirely. Their soul will always remain bound to this world, though their body may die."

"So that's why he had been searching for a way to restore his body," Sirius said. "Merlin … that sounds so … sick."

"The act of splitting your soul is a disfiguring and damaging process," Dumbledore said, nodding. "And it begins with the act of murder."

"They say that to kill a man is to break a piece of your soul …" Arthur said soberly.

"That's so horrible," Molly said, shakily, "That a person would create such a thing; to tear apart your soul and bind it to an _object_. To live as a bodiless spirit, suspended between death and life …"

"Worse than death," Moody grumbled.

Edward felt a sharp twist in his gut, thinking of Al. It was similar, in a way. Perhaps his soul had not been fragmented like this Horcrux seemed to do, but the horror of living like his brother had for _years_, trapped in a body that couldn't feel even the warmth of the sun, sent a guilty shiver down his spine.

"So, dat's it?" Edward broke in, "Ve find and destroy de Horcruxes, den ve can kill Riddle?"

"I highly doubt it would be so simple," Severus sneered.

"It is not, Mr. Elric," the old man said, looking to Edward. "Horcruxes are not so easily destroyed, and finding such a thing will be a difficult task. There is no doubt he will have something so precious to his continued survival well hidden and well protected. Also, with the Ministry refusing to believe the truth of his return and watching me so closely, there is little I can do for now..."

"Oh no," Edward protested. "No more vaiting. I don't care vhat your damn government is doing; _I'm_ going to look for de ting!"

"Mr. Elric, the last time you acted on your own, no matter what we have gained from it, you nearly died," Dumbledore chided. "I cannot claim to know you, young man, and that is a shame, but I do know that there must be those who are waiting for you. You cannot get yourself killed and leave them awaiting your return, when you never will!"

Edward snapped his mouth shut, shame filling his gut.

An image of Winry's tear stained face flashed across his vision, and then Al, letting out choking breaths as he remembered how to cry. And next was Teacher, and that sad look that finds its way to her face sometimes. The memory of Mustang with that horrible, helpless look on his face as he cradled a glass of scotch in one hand and they sat in silence after the anger had left and together they mourned the death of Hughes was next. Then anger later, the hatred, the burning, and the insanity as he stood over Envy, fingers poised to snap. A hundred visions danced before him, people he knew, people he loved all left behind as he died for a battle that wasn't even his.

"I understand," Dumbledore said quietly. "I understand that you want to go home as soon as possible, but I ask that you first make sure that you can return at all. If I dare presume, you do not seem to kind of person to let someone cry over you."

"I know," Edward said, head lowered and bangs covering his eyes, "I know, and I vill _not_ die, but I vill not just _sit_ here eiter."

"I know, Mr. Elric," Dumbledore said, looking at him with sad eyes. "And we will all do our best to search for the Horcrux while dealing with the Ministry. I know you do not enjoy waiting, and I hope you will think before you nearly get yourself killed again, but our movements are restricted for now. There _is_, however, a task that I believe you shall be up to, one that will free our movement greatly. It may take some time, but I will trust you to do this. Do you understand, Mr. Elric?"

Edward thought a moment. Perhaps he could not act toward getting his hands on the Horcrux and destroying it, but he could get them moving towards it. He hated to admit it, but the old man was right, he nearly got himself killed, by a snake of all things, because of his rashness. It's true that they may not have made this discovery without those actions, but the images of the people waiting for him back home stilled his impatience. He couldn't let himself get killed, and if that meant taking a little extra caution and a little more time, then...

It would be worth knowing that Winry wouldn't be crying over him again, and that Al wouldn't be left without him.

_We're all we've got._

"Fine," Edward consented, finally, "Vhat is it?"

Dumbledore smiled lightly in what looked like relief.

"I wish for you to act against the Ministry in any way you can, in attempt to make the truth known, or at least subvert their authority and influence on public opinion," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling dangerously.

Edward grinned.

"Vith _pleasure._"

* * *

><p>He had gotten lost somewhere in the middle, but picked it up again by the end. That middle bit was fuzzy, but he had once asked about where Edward had come from, but received only a strange look from Dumbledore and a few cryptic words.<p>

"Somewhere that is only his business to speak of."

He didn't try to pry the answers from Edward himself. He knew where that could easily land him. Many strict instructions about the kid had been told to them all. Never were they to inquire to either his origins or his mechanical limbs. They were to watch him carefully while on missions – this one did not quite apply to Sirius, he thought with a grimace – and anything strange to be said would be brought to Dumbledore immediately. They were not to speak of the past with him. He was to know only what he needed to know, anything more and it would be potentially 'dangerous'.

The old man had decided to believe in the kid's desire to fight Voldemort – another rule was to not ask him why this was – yet he was stoutly refusing to trust him.

Sirius leaned against the wall beside the fireplace, listening to Molly fuss over Edward just out in the hall. It had taken some time for the woman to accept Edward as a member of the Order and with the meeting over she was immediately back to mothering the boy. He could understand, though; the kid gave him this strange urge to ruffle his hair. It was very unusual, this feeling; the last thing Edward seemed to want was to be treated like a child, and to be honest he didn't know if there was much left of the kid that could be _considered_ 'kid'.

Yet, he felt like there was something in Edward begging to be coddled, to be mothered.

These were useless thoughts either way, because Edward would be returning to Hogwarts and he would be left here, once more, alone amongst the dust.

Sirius frowned at his thoughts, pushing away from the wall and making for the door. He walked into the hallway, walking past Edward and Molly, giving into that inexplicable urge and reached out to ruffle the kid's hair as he passed. Edward sputtered and swatted at his hand, pouting sulkily as Molly patted his cheek.

Sirius decided that once everyone had cleared out he would try and get in touch with Harry, talk to him. He missed Harry. He had little left and Harry was a big part of that. There was only so much that he could hold on to so as not to go mad in this place. There were few blessings in this world.

As he turned to walk up the stairs, he felt a hand on his shoulder and out of the corner of his eye he saw another fall into step with him. He let a small smile break out over his face.

Maybe Remus was all the blessing he needed for now.

* * *

><p>The crackle of energy brought all the dark corners of the room into stark light, bathing the stones in blue. The energy flowed through the circle, reshaping the rock into its new form. It shifted restlessly, protesting, and Hermione's eyes narrowed upon the circle, slowing her thoughts and clearly directing the energy. The stone bent to her will and slowly, but surely became as she dictated. Before her stood an elegant statuette of the Shakespearean character Hermione.<p>

With a triumphant grin, she turned her head upwards toward Edward who knelt down to inspect the thing.

"Very good detail, Hermione," He muttered as he looked at the statuette, "But..."

He poked the head of the statuette and it cracked off, shattering against the floor. Hermione groaned. Edward brushed his hand against a white, crystal-like substance as well as a few tiny yellowish orbs that were scattered around the crater left by the transmutation. He sighed.

"(AlSi)3O4," he said, giving her a dubious look. "You turned it into clay, leaving _dis_" - he gestured to the residue in the crater - "Sodium Peroxide and Potassium Hydroxide."

He gave her a dry look.

"I particularly don't recommend getting the Sodium Peroxide in your eyes," He pressed down on one of the tiny crystalline rocks with his right hand, crushing it into a powder. He lifted his left hand, poking her in the head twice, to which she didn't protest, only continued to stare at the failed transmutation before her with, and continued, "You have too much going on in here."

He gave her forehead another poke for good measure.

"Altough it is good dat you know many different compounds for de elements in de granite, and subconsciously ensure dat a backlash is less likely to occur, it is also distracting you," he said. "You need to organize it all, or else you vill never be able to transmute vhat you vant."

"It's hard," Hermione said with a frown. "Harder than I thought. I'm usually good about organizing my thoughts, but all these molecules and compounds... It all mixes together and muddles in my head."

Edward gave a wry smile, though Hermione was left to wonder what was so grimly amusing. He clapped his hands together and placed them to the floor, and with a crackle of energy smooth stone was all that remained. She looked at him curiously. That was not the first time she had seen him transmute without a circle. When she had asked him about it he was less than informative.

"Only dose who have seen de Trut can understand how dis can be done," he gave her a solemn look, "pray dat you never do."

It had sent a shiver down her spine, as it did now as she thought of it. She hadn't asked again, but she was still curious, and she felt she always would be. He seemed unlikely to share more than he had. Everything about Edward Elric was quite honestly still one big mystery. There were still a hundred unanswered questions, questions that seemed to have been stuffed into a closet somewhere after _the incident. _Though, how would she know? She wasn't exactly in on the goings on of the Order. It was a frustrating feeling, and she was reluctant to bring up the subject to Edward, even though he might be the only one who would give them answers.

Hermione was snapped out of her thoughts by a hand waving in front of her face. Her eyes focused to see Edward giving her a bemused look.

"Dat is not a very good idea, eiter," He said, holding out a piece of chalk to her, "Write out the formula of de granite for me, den its properties, and de energy in de bonds."

Hermione held back a groan as she did as she was instructed. She had been demoted back to the basics.

"Don't complain," Edward said, looking at her seriously. "De consequences of a failed transmutation can be great, do not underestimate dem, and alvays be cautious."

Hermione didn't miss how he gripped his left knee at those words.

* * *

><p>"You're taunting them, and they <em>are<em> angering."

"So? I am only doing vhat de old man _told_ me to do."

"To an extreme that I do not believe he had anticipated."

Severus looked at him passively, though a flicker of amusement could be seen in his eyes. Edward smirked back at him. For the whole of the last two weeks Edward had succeeded in scandalizing a good fraction of the Ministry. Those with sordid affairs were brought into the blinding light of hot press, others with dubious connections found these things exposed with a cunning display of manipulative skills on Edward's part. He was given every piece of unproven scandal that could be found, and he set out to prove every one. All of this was in such a public way that the Prophet couldn't hope to ignore it.

Most especially the ones that involved suspected practitioners of the Dark Arts, namely those who were among the Death Eaters. These ones did little to upset the balance in the Ministry, as proof of use of the Dark Arts was scarce and connections of the less-than-scrupulous type were not unheard of. The name of Death Eater would not be dropped, for it would cause a familiar response, though the action of it did do something else. This something else was why Severus was concerned.

He was really pissing them off.

He was shining a light on those involved with the Dark Lord, making the public look just a little closer at them. It was not sitting well amongst them.

"I thought you agreed no recklessness," Severus chided halfheartedly.

Edward snorted.

"I said no such ting," he said, a satisfied smirk on his face. He crossed his right leg over his left, leaning back on his arms and Severus twitched in annoyance.

"Edward?" He said amiably.

"Ja?"

"Get off my desk."

Edward did not move, only glancing down at him with a wide smirk.

"So, has anyting come up about de you-know-vhat?" he asked, expression serious again.

Severus grimaced. The Horcrux. Things weren't exactly going well on that front. The book "Secrets of the Darkest Art" was quite informative. A way to identify a Horcrux was described within the tome, however it was rather cryptic. It merely said that they 'left a trace' and the soul fragment influenced people close to the Horcrux. There was also a disturbing point of the book that left an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

It was possible to make more than one.

"I'll take dat as a 'no'," Edward said with a frown.

Severus thought about the kid sitting not three feet from him for a moment. He had protected Potter and fought the Dark Lord for years now, and within the first month of this school year, more had been done by Edward than had been done by any of them in all their years. Dumbledore insisted that they were not to question him at all, but curiosity was a very powerful thing. He dared not attempt to force his way into Elric's mind either. Aside from the fact that Edward had managed to remove Voldemort from his mind, it would threaten this tentative … dare he call it _friendship_ that they had? All he could hope for was free offering of answers.

Edward didn't seem to find any of this important though, and was content to keep questions of his own strictly to business or light teasing. Maybe it was best. Curious though he may be, he knew the importance of secrets, and of keeping one's past to one's self. It wasn't like he was going to freely offer any answers of his own, it would be foolish to hope the same from Edward.

* * *

><p>Edward sat amidst strewn notebooks, some in elegant blue ink, others in his own messy black scrawl; these were written in Amestrian. Amid the lessons with Hermione and the tearing down of Ministry officials he had little free time left over to work on Flamel's notes.<p>

It didn't take him very long to crack the code, but going through and rewriting them in understandable Amestrian was taking a lot more time. He was going to simply read them, with the code in his mind, but magic alchemy was more complex than he had anticipated. It was different when he was reading familiar things in Marcoh's notes; this was a whole different monster. He had gotten through the majority of the notes and had yet to come across anything that could be the creation of the Philosopher's Stone.

It had been mentioned in passing; the search for it being something of importance in the study of alchemy. It was curious, however, that the years had passed and the man had to be far older than possible already, yet there have been no words about his process of creating the stone. Edward continued to read and copy down the notes in Amestrian as quickly as his hand could move. In his left hand, the charmed galleon moved between his fingers in a practiced motion. It was the end of some notes on transmuting lead to gold, simple stuff, really, when he saw something that shook his very core. He copied the first sentence shakily, slowly, word by word.

_I can hear them screaming._

The galleon slipped from his fingers and clattered against the floor. He looked at the words before him in plain Amestrian and had to force himself to continue on. The words flowed from his hand and he grew sicker by the second.

_I have neglected to write of this research before. It was something I had intended to keep for myself. Selfishly, perhaps, though I always told myself it was because of the danger involved in power like this falling into unscrupulous hands. Now, however, I think it best to record my findings. It's the devil's research, and I hope that my apprentice, when he is able to decode these notes will endeavor to make sure no one undertakes this task again. _

_I didn't know. But I can hear them, now. I can hear their screams. I never should have created this thing, it should be destroyed. But I am a coward._

_Perhaps the beginning is where to start. I was researching, as all alchemists do, the Philosopher's Stone. The nature of the stone is an impossibility itself. Thus is the nature of magic, is it not? Immortality is not an unfamiliar goal, however magic, as it is used, cannot attain this. It is magic in its most raw form that bends the cycle of life to its will. The subconscious magic that children use is closest to this raw magic, however the greatest example are those who, under situations of great emotion and psychological strain, do what should be impossible even with magic; they defy death. This is magic at its most raw, while still being able to be utilized. _

_However there is the magic, also, that flows through all living things, and in the air. There is the magic that is at the core of every Witch and Wizard in the world. We shape it to do as we will it, so it is no longer in its immensely powerful and raw form. We take only a piece of this great thing at our center. So I began to study the very nature of raw magic, myself as the lab rat. _

_Equivalent Exchange means nothing to me as a wizard, magic feeding the alchemy as I tear into the very heart of my own power, my own self. Alchemy, in magic, uses the magic as both energy and the cost, so, I reversed the process. Instead of pulling the energy to me, I brought myself to it. What I found was something incredible. Within us magic pulsates like a heartbeat, feeding us with power through our every vein, it is like life within us. It is harmonious and right and peaceful, and there is this feeling of... love? Yes, love, that is it. This magic, it loves us, and so it lends us its strength. _

_It was power concentrated, it was everything in the universe, every impossibility, and every strength, caressing me as it swirled around in rhythmic motion, beating steadily. _

_I wanted it._

_I was so foolish, so arrogant. _

_I will not explain my equations, I will draw no array, and I will show you nothing toward what I did that led me to my success. I hope only that this warning will ensure you don't try to find out for yourself. _

_I took it; I tore it from my core and drew it into the world, focusing it, concentrating it until it became crystallized stone. I created, from the raw magic within myself, a Philosopher's Stone. It was power itself and it was incredible. I could harness the raw magic to its full potential. Immortality became possible, every year I added on to my life seeming to not even dent the great power of the thing. I was drunk on power; I thought I had achieved _God.

_But then humanity slowly settled within me once more and I could hear it. I could hear the unnatural thing I had done._

_It screamed. It screamed with a thousand voices and I thought I might go mad. I had twisted that loving thing, that magic. I had taken more than it could give and forced it into a solid form, using it as I willed. It hurt, and it screamed, and it tore at my mind. As I held the stone in my hands, I felt what was inside it. It was a swirling vortex of agony. It was like a billion souls were trapped within, clawing at the bars of their prison, screaming, terrified. _

_But it was too late. I had tasted immortality, and I feared death._

_It is an evil thing, yet to destroy it would leave me to wither and die, so I continued living on the pain of the stone. _

_Let alchemy die, Albus. Let alchemy and it's devil's quest die._

The quill fell from Edward's hand and he buried his face in his arms.

He had dared to hope. He had dared to hope that the stone would not cause so much pain in this world as it had in his. What this meant for magic even... He understood now. He understood the power of magic and how it laughed in the face of equivalent exchange. How it happened and why, he could not fathom. He didn't know how this world worked, but one thing was glaringly, painfully certain; something corrupted the cycle of life in this world. The souls of the dead lingered.

He should have known.

He should have known.

* * *

><p>Edward watched, transfixed in grim fascination as spells flew from the kid's wands. Harry was teaching them to conjure a Patronus. Edward rolled Flamel's words through his mind. Harmony. Peace. Love. It was a struggle to believe, and he held back the horror as each spell was spoken.<p>

"Expecto Patronum!"

* * *

><p>The words caressed her and she smiled, closing her eyes and reaching out with both arms. He was beside her and she could almost feel the warmth of an arm around her waist. He smiled, too, as he poured his strength forth. Peace and harmony, throughout the billions of spirits, all lending their strength. They gave their power, allowing him to shape it, contentment settling. Love, and nothing but love, beating forth.<p>

Lily opened her eyes, smiling still and fading back into the swirl of rhythmic motion, James followed, caressing and loving.

* * *

><p>AN: Did I depress some people? I depressed myself a little...

Well, I don't know how you'll like my explanation for magic and the Philosopher's Stone in this world, but there it is.


End file.
